


A Calm In The Storm

by hirusen



Series: The Many Versions Of The Trouble Detective Virgil Sanders Gets Into [1]
Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Book One Spoilers, Canon Dialogue, Canon Universe, Detective Has Insomnia, Gen, Language, M/M, POV First Person, POV Original Character, Slow Burn, Spoilers, The Wayhaven Chronicles: Book One, Violence, canon plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-05-03 10:34:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 66,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14567136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hirusen/pseuds/hirusen
Summary: He had no idea that is first day as Detective would ever lead to this.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Mishka Jenkins has all the rights of the wonderful universe of the Wayhaven Chronicles, I'm merely borrowing the world and its characters, and putting my own detective between them.
> 
> That being said, this will be the first of four (maybe five) stories that revolve around my detective, Virgil Sanders, and the multiple playthroughs I do for each romance option. Nearly all of the details and dialogue come straight from Book One of The Wayhaven Chronicles, so if you want to avoid spoilers, DO NOT READ THIS.
> 
> Each iteration of the story will be nearly identical, with only who I'm wanting to romance and certain actions/dialogue being changed.
> 
> ...Well, if you're still here, then I'll let you enjoy the story! ^^

I sigh, glancing over to the clock for the time. 11:14 pm.  _I should get some sleep._ After all, tomorrow is the official first day of my new job, and title. Stripping out of my jeans and shirt, I fall onto my bed, distantly hearing my downstairs's neighbor bickering with someone on the phone. I knew it was a lot earlier than I normally go to bed, having insomnia and all, but my case was thankfully a minor one.

Well, I say minor, but most nights sees me going to bed around midnight or one in the morning. Not the best time to be trying to get to sleep when you work as a member of the police force. Shaking the train of thought out of my head, I drag the sheets out from under me, making sure that they're tucked tightly against my body to fight off the last of the winter chill.

As I start to drift asleep, I feel a cold line drag down my spine, shivering at the phantom touch.  _...That's not good._ Somehow, I knew that my life of normality was about to end the moment I went to work tomorrow. I've always had a strange, calm air around me, according to other members of the force; I could almost always...sense when some major change in my life was about to happen, or if something really bad was going to happen and it was rare for me to be truly startled or shocked by something, not matter how horrible it was. My mum, however, never found that strange, saying that it was the family genes showing through.

...Maybe, after what happened to my father, I just stopped being so easily scared of a lot of things. Or maybe it was because I could accept the strangest things quicker than others? I again shake my head, tossing aside such thoughts. I needed to get some rest because I knew that one fact was going to be for certain from tomorrow onward...

My life, was about to get a lot more hectic.


	2. Chapter 1

_**The Next Morning in Wayhaven** _

The crime scene is a wriggling mass of spectators by the time I arrive, even this early in the morning. People line the small alleyway, packed so tightly I can't believe they're able to breathe, let alone fight for space to see the end of the street.

Revving the engine of my battered, silver hatchback does little to gain anyone's attention, and I realize I can't park unless they move. Not wanting to be late to my very first case as Wayhaven's newly-appointed detective, I let out a heavy sigh, pulling a little further to one side of the alleyway. The crowd continues to buzz in front of the car, some only shifting slightly aside.

Managing to park, I crank on the handbrake, trying to ignore the pained, crunching sound the car makes.

Out of habit, I glance into the rear-view mirror, quickly checking my appearance. I brush a hand over my dark brown hair. Figuring there is little else I can do to procrastinate, I finally force myself out of the car.

The chill air bites at my skin as soon as I step out of the warm comfort of the car. I shove my hands into the pockets of my coat, shivering at the relief it provides from the sharp cold. Buds may be clinging to the few stark trees lining the alleyway, but is it far from spring yet.

It looks as though most of Wayhaven has gathered at the scene, which is more likely true than not, considering the whole town consists of less than a thousand people.

As I step up to the blue-and-white striped barrier, I'm greeted by Officer Len, a part-time volunteer on the scant Wayhaven police force. I wonder for a moment if his hunched posture is from the grisly nature of the crime or just his advancing age.

He looks up from his pad, and I can almost hear the creaking in his bones at the motion. I wait as he speaks to greet me, his voice croaking out from his thin lips, partly hidden by a scraggly grey beard that matches the color of his skin.

Finally, he says, "Credentials please, sir."

I let out a long sigh. "Are we really going to do this, Len? You started working as a volunteer long after I joined the force."

"Sorry, but it's mayor's orders," He replies.

I'm hesitant to open my coat after just managing to get warm, but I pull one side open to yank out my badge and ID. I hand it over, Len not even glancing as it before handing it back. His eyesight may be bad, but even he cannot fail to recognize me.

"All good, Detective; step on through."

I take back my ID and dip under the barrier Len is struggling to keep raised. As I move away from his, I glance down at my new ID.

'Detective'. It's the first time I've been addressed that way by one of my colleagues.

It's strange to hear my new title. It belonged to old Detective Reele for so long that I'm not sure if it fits me quite yet. After all, the only training I've had was the rushed speech I received from the mayor, addressing my 'many merits' and how to show my 'willingness' to take over. The total of my detective experience probably amounts to that hour he spent lecturing me.

The promotion was rushed through in time for Reele's retirement party, leaving me spinning on how to react to the whole thing.  _I didn't even want the promotion; the captain threw it on me._

It was a surprise when the captain offered me the promotion, though it was less 'offered' and more 'forced'.

The captain was thrilled enough, needing someone in the station of a senior position so he could go off and play golf with the mayor whenever he wants. I let out a heavy sigh and shake my head at the thought.

My photo stares back at me from the ID pouch. I glance over my details, my name listed boldly at the top.

 **Virgil Sanders  
** **Detective  
** **Wayhaven Police  
** **Male  
** **5' 5"  
** **Brown hair/Grey eyes**

"Finally here then, Detective Sanders."

I glance up at the sound of the familiar voice, a smile already on my face. Officer Tina Poname strides towards me, my old partner grinning at me as she nears. "Not much of a surprise they're all gathered here," She says, gesturing to the crowd behind us.

I look over my shoulder at the bustle of people, sunlight glinting off the phones held ready to take whatever pictures they can. "This is probably the biggest thing that's happened for years," I reply with a shrug.

She nods in response, brushing back a few brown curls that bob in front of her hazel eyes. "I can't help but notice none of the fancy-dancy silver spoons have bothered to show up."

Her nose wrinkles as she speaks, the freckles splattered over her rosy cheeks becoming more pronounced with the expression. "Don't suppose they care what happens to us normal folk, as long as no one touches their mansions. But anyway, how's the first day of your promotion going?"

"I was hoping it would be quieter," I admit, shoving my hands deeper into my pockets.

She purses her lips and sighs. "You and me both. I thought you'd be mostly stuck in your office, bored."

"Guess we better head down there." I gesture to the crime scene down the street, though it's half hidden by white-clad crime scene technicians. The techs all busy themselves placing down yellow tags and measuring out every inch of space. There's the occasional bright flash as they take photos.

"Excuse me!" A voice stops us before we move. "I need to know what is going on. I demand to know!" Tina's grip on her belt tightens and I let out a drawn breath.

"I'm the landlord of these apartments." The man, an older gentleman in a crisp, grey suit, sweeps an arm upwards at the soaring, crumbling building beside us.

"I'm sorry, sir," I reply, my tone as light and polite as I can make it. "But we can't give out details at this time."

Tina places a hand on my shoulder. "You go on ahead; I'll deal with him. It's not your job to settle this lot any more, Detective."

I throw her a grateful nod as she moves towards the landlord with a stern frown. Her tall, statuesque figure is hidden behind the stiff, unshapely, dark blue uniform; her pretty features contrast against the heavy belt and boots she wears.

If I'd known her before becoming such good friends as partners, I wouldn't have made a move--I'm only attracted to men. I think back to the patrol that really brought us together; we were just getting to know each other a little better and I felt comfortable enough around her to confess to her that I was attracted to men. After a moment, a tense silence between us, she laughed and asked me what type of guys I tended to drool over. In short, we spent most of that patrol gossiping about boys.

I shake away the thought, turning to head towards the crime scene. It's not far before I stumble to a stop, holding up my hands to keep balance as a technician walks in front of my path. The woman clicks her tongue at me before continuing to bend down and retrieve a piece of trash, carefully storing it in a clear plastic bag and sealing the top.

I move forward once more, my path like a dance as I make my way through a maze of yellow tags and disgruntled technicians. I avoid coming up against the wall, which is slick with something I don't even want to think about.

Thankfully, I make it past the busiest part to find Doctor Turner crouched over the body. He looks up at me and frowns. "Sorry this has to be your first case, Virgil."

"Yeah..."

"It's pretty amazing to think I delivered you as a baby and now here you are, as a peer." His pride in me is dulled somewhat due to our meeting over a dead body. The gloomy light of the morning makes the grey peppering his short, black hair seem lighter, and his deep brown skin a little more aged than usual.

A quiet punctuates the air between us. Dr. Turner returns to looking over the still figure at his feet.

"Can they be covered yet?" I ask with a frown. "Give them a little peace."

"I think they're far from needing peace in this life," He replies. "We better check their identity. I couldn't roll them over until the city boys were done."

I note the glare he throws towards the crime scene techs. Wayhaven is too small and quiet a place for those types of people, so when a major crime happens they are sent down to aid from the big city. It's the first time this has happened in my lifetime, and the city techs and small town people obviously aren't mixing well.

Turner places his hands beneath the body before rolling it over. I wince a little at the dull thud that sounds as it topples over completely, a reaction noted by the keen, if ageing, doctor.

A woman lays spread before us, her cold, freckled skin marred by bruises.

I clench my jaw at the sight of her pale form, but I continue to stare in case it might reveal something.

"Not easy seeing your first body, is it?" Doctor Turner says quietly, his wrinkled face creased deeper in sympathy. "Well, anyway, I don't think she can be from Wayhaven. I see to pretty much everyone's health here, and I have never seen her before."

"I just can't believe there's been a murder. Here. In Wayhaven." My words come out in a confused mumble.

"I know what you mean. The last time there was violence in this town was back in my grandfather's day," He says, shaking his head. His thin-framed glasses wriggle down his nose; he pushes them back up and shrugs.

"Can you give me the time of death?" I ask.

"That's not my call to make," He replies, bristling slightly with his words. "That's your man's job back at the lab." He doesn't bother to hold back the disdain in his voice, obviously not pleased at having to give that responsibility to another 'city boy'. "I'm only here to make sure the body is really dead."

"Make sure 'she' is dead," I correct him.

He frowns in confusion. "Pardon?"

"She was a person, not just a body."

Turner nods and gives a warm smiled of apology. "Of course; you're right." He turns to face the techs behind him, their mask-covered faces giving them an eerie look. "You can take her away now." He then strides away down the street to where his black sports car is parked. "Good luck with it all, Virgil," He calls back with a slight wave of his hand.

"Find out anything useful from the doc?" Tina asks as she moves back to my side. We both watch for a moment as the techs move forward to throw a white cloth over the victim.

"We'll know more when Verda takes a look at her," I reply. "Are you okay getting statements from the witnesses?"

"Sure," She replies. "I've already started on it."

I give a nod of appreciation. "Take Douglas from the station if you need help."

"I'd have better luck getting help from a parrot than from that boy," She scoffs. She moves away, her pad flipped open in preparation.

With the crowds, the technicians, and the sheer amount of rubbish still littering the alleyway, I'm not sure how much more I can get from the crime scene. I begin to head out of the street and back towards my car.

"Officer Sanders--I mean, Detective!"

My shoulders instantly hunch at the voice, and I roll my head from side to side to release the sudden tension before turning to face the source of the call.

"Bobby Marks," I say. "Why am I not surprised to find you here?"

Bobby, being the only journalist in the small town, leaps on any kind of gossip he can--whether it be true or not. This is probably the closest to real news he's ever had.

Bobby also happens to have a reputation as a giant pain in the ass. Still, as far as my relationship with him goes...

He also happens to be my ex. I thank myself daily for getting out when I did. The man would do anything he can to get ahead, including stealing all of my essays in collage and using them as his own--while we were dating!

As if the bribes to find out extra information from some of our volunteers aren't enough, Bobby also likes to wiggle his way into people's personal lives and report in to everyone in town.

It's hard to be around Bobby, but I won't ever let him see that. The few times we've bumped into each other, I try to just ignore him completely before the memories resurface.

He grins at me as he approaches, his phone held out like a microphone. "What's happened here? Can you tell me--"

"No, I can't." I reply curtly, pushing the phone back as he thrusts it closer.

"Nothing at all?"

"No, nothing at all," I repeat, dipping beneath the barrier and heading for the sanctuary of my car.

"Not even for an old friend?"

I shudder at the way he says 'old friend,' once again reminded of my error in judgement in collage when we dated.

"You know I can't say anything," I answer, trying to keep a calmness about me. I apparently don't manage it, judging from the triumphant smile he throws me, obviously pleased at getting under my skin once more.

"Come on now, Virgil," Bobby coos. "You wound me with such a cold reply."

"Goodbye, Bobby," I say with finality, marching the last few paces to my car. I yank open the door and sink into the silent solace of the front seat. Bobby continues to shout muffled pleas through the window, so I turn on the radio and strap on my seatbelt. I rev the engine, loud enough to be sure no one doubts my resolve to run them over if they don't move.

The sea of spectators quickly parts as I reverse out of the alley.

It'll be a while before Soloman Verda, Wayhaven's only pathologist, has anything to report, so I decide to take a quick brunch. I drive the car around to the swanky, modern side of town.

The redbrick factories that make up every foundation and building in Wayhaven have all been given a coat of fresh white or classy grey paint in this area. Tidy shop fronts lines the streets, each with a scripted, scrolling shop name running across the top of the door.

The Square is the centre of this modern hub, and I pull up to park beside the bakery. Getting out, I try to not break my ankle on the aesthetically pleasing, but treacherous, cobblestone street.

Thankfully, the wet, slushy blanket of leaves that covers the roads of Wayhaven have long ago been cleared away from the Square. I doubt the leaves even had a chance to touch the ground before someone was plucking them up and throwing them out.

The bakery is surprisingly empty. I stumble to a stop inside the doorway as a waft of hot air, lined with the scent of fresh bread, embraces me.

"Good morning, Virgil." Haley, the bakery owner, greets me with a grin, her ivory cheeks flushed red and a ring of white-blonde hair just visible beneath a red-and-white chequered chef's hat. "What can I get you?"

I stare at the curved display and the pastry goodies spread behind it, the fresh warmth of them steaming the glass.

"I'll have a coffee, please." My gaze flickers to the pastries, their scent enticing me closer. "And one of those."

She gives a smile and turns to the counter behind her, the bitter smell of coffee beans mixing with the pastries, making my stomach rumble. After a moment, she turns back and places down the paper cup and bag on the counter. "On the house."

"Are you sure?"

She nods. "I heard you're gonna need it--what with that murder and all." She grimaces and wipes her hands on her apron.

"Yeah, guess word gets around quick."

"That shouldn't surprise you," She says, chuckling. "It's worse than when we were in school."

I nod in agreement. There's a saying in Wayhaven that if you don't know what's going on, you just have to ask the person next to you.

Insular is an understatement.

"At least I know it's you out there protecting us," She says with a genuine smile. I give a slow nod.

I joined the police force because I had a rather rebellious youth; after what happened with my father, I started to act out and get into all sorts of interesting trouble. That trouble came back to bite me when I was faced with the choice of going to prison...or joining the force in order to 'temper my attitude.'

I chose the police, and it's worked out pretty well, surprisingly. The worst crimes I've had to deal with are vandalism and graffiti. Well, there was that time Mila Evans knocked her tennis ball through Jack Marshall's window, but that was all an accident.

It's probably better that someone like me is solving this murder, and not someone with a weaker stomach.

I grab up my goods, coming out of my thoughts. "Thanks for this." With a grateful nod, I leave the shop and attempt to traverse my way over the cobblestone once again.

I'm just about to sip my drink when my phone buzzes, Verda's name highlighted on the screen. With a sigh, I put down my things, start the engine, and make my way over a couple of blocks to the station.

* * *

_**Back at the Station** _

"Morning, Douglas," I call as I push open the heavy glass door, pleased to be back in the familiar setting of the station. It was once a factory, but the insides have been completely refurbished into a bright, modern work area. The walls are mostly made of large windows, and the work stations are efficient but open.

The young officer, seated behind the grey, faux-marble front desk of the station, scrambles to shove his cell phone into his pocket. Instead, he only manages to drop it on the floor. We both stare at the item as it spins on its back before slowing to a stop.

Douglas shifts his wide-eyed gaze to me, both of us realizing work had been far from his mind while I'd been out. I thin my lips in thought, suddenly presented with how to deal with the mayor's son now that I'm in charge of the station.  _I need to be able to rely on my own people not to be distracted at work. I'll just hold onto the phone._

"Really?" I ask, putting on my best disappointed voice. The young man turns away with a pout. I bend down and retrieve the phone, slipping it into my jacket pocket. "I need to be able to know you have the station covered while I'm out, Douglas."

"I know," He says, like a child being chastised, which I realize he sort of is. "I'm sorry, Detective."

"I'll keep it safe until the end of the day."

He doesn't argue, only slumps back into his chair with a heavy sigh. His long bangs covering his puppy-dog expression, the light blond hair almost lost against his pale skin.

I shake my head and begin moving towards the pathologist's lab.

As I push open the doors to the staircase that lead down to the basement lab, I wonder if how I dealt with Douglas was the right move. The all-powerful Mayor Friedman doesn't like any insult to his name...so Douglas must be a real disappointment. Still, Douglas is kind enough, just young and not great at actually remembering to focus on his work.

I shake the thought away as the chill of the basement sinks into my skin. My gaze flashes over the 'no food or drink' sign nailed to the wall just a few feet from the lab, and I grip my drink.

Reluctantly, I throw the paper cup and its contents into the nearby bin, knowing the rules are there for a reason.

Now the chill really sets in, and I shiver as I finally reach the pathologist's lab.

I bump the heavy door open with one hip, pacing into the clean room behind. White-tiled walls shine all around. The shimmering silver machines dotted about the edges of the room are not every welcoming.

"I don't know how you work down here," I say, spying Verda sitting at his metal desk to one corner. The slender, short man isn't even wearing gloves, just a suit and a simple white medical coat.

He turns and give a grin, the expression making his dark brown eyes shimmer even in the dull, electric light. "This is the first time I've really had to work," He says, running a hand over his styled brunette hair that he always has highlighted, the color complimenting his light brown skin. "Mostly I just deal with the overflow of natural deaths Doctor Turner can't manage."

I arch a brow, my focus shifting to the steaming mug of coffee on his desk. "Hey, I threw my drink away!"

"That's 'cause you're someone who's better at following the rules than I am. Something you should be proud of. I picked up too many bad habits working in the city." He smiles, the expression bright and full of cheer.

I snap out of my thoughts, our attention back on the white sheet on the table. The woman's head and shoulders are the only things visible. "You haven't started the autopsy yet?"

He shakes his head. "No, but..." He purses his lips, a shadow of a goatee framing them. "I found something you might need." He spins around, lifting an evidence bag off the nearby counter.

Inside is a cell phone.

"They couldn't find this on her at the scene," I say, taking the bag and looking over it.

"It was in her boot."

We both stare down at the woman, her skin now a grey-white, her lips so pale they seem to have sunken back and disappeared.

"We really need to find out more about her identity," I say, letting out a saddened breath. "I need to be able to inform her family."

"Yeah, I don't envy that job," Verda replies, his shoulders sagging. "But I'm glad you care about that kind of thing. More than most detectives would want to do, back in the city stations."

I half-smile at him, appreciative of the compliment.

"There's not much I can tell you at the moment," Verda continues. "Though I did notice bruises around her wrists and ankles."

"She was tied down?" I ask, the thought making my chest tight.

"So it would seem..." His voice trails off in obvious sympathy for the poor woman.

My hand tightens around the cell phone, and I bring it up to turn it on though the evidence bag. The phone flashes to life and I give a sigh of relief to find it's not PIN-protected.

Flicking through the call log, there are the usual names: home, work, but then only a very few other numbers. The texts are pretty standard too, though--again--very few of them.

"She obviously didn't get out much," Verda says, as he glances over the phone too.

"Poor girl," I say, flicking my gaze to the lifeless woman before back at the phone. "She might have been less of a target if she hadn't been so isolated."

"Maybe," Verda says with a shrug. "But that might not have been why she was targeted."

"True," I say, shivering at the thought of the woman's fate.

The conversation is halted as I go through the photos on her phone. A few catch my attention.

"Something wrong?" Verda asks.

"No, it's just..." I stare at the pictures closer. They're blurred as though taken in motion, but the stained walls and cracked metal beams are familiar. "I recognize where these pictures were taken, and they seem to be the last photos she took."

"You think she managed to capture where she was murdered?"

"Possibly," I reply, shutting off the phone and frowning. "Looks like it's from the old Farris Warehouse at the edge of town. Tina and I had quite a few patrols up there. It's falling to pieces, but the teenagers still insist on risking their necks by going in it."

"Ah, to be youthful once more," Verda says, to which I can't help but laugh. "Will you go over to the warehouse now?"

"I will, after I've done some paperwork," I reply, moving to the doorway and glancing back at him.

"Alone?"

"I've got my radio if I need backup, but I'm pretty sure Tina checked it out already the other day. I can't imagine some deranged murderer is still hanging about in there."

He frowns in concern. "Be careful, Detective."

"You worried about me, Verda?" I ask, throwing him a smirk.

"You're about the best person I've worked for," He replies with just as much of a smile. "I don't fancy having to get used to someone new."

My laughter echoes about the room as I make my way out, shaking my head and feeling much better than I have since finding out about the case.


	3. Chapter 2

**_That Evening_ **

After a century of neglect, I'm impressed to find the paint declaring 'Farris and Sons' still clinging to the brick of the large, rectangular warehouse in some kind of defiance towards time. The roof isn't putting up as much of a fight. The metal, corrugated tiles are peeling away; some, already fallen, lie discarded on the swathe of concrete spreading out from the building like a dull, grey moat.

The warehouse is hidden from view of the town by the forest and is far enough out on the edge that no one really pays it much attention. 'Out of sight, out of mind' is a motto that suit Wayhaven quite well in general.

There is still enough of a trail through the trees for me to drive my car up to the building, though I find my teeth clacking together more than once over the uneven dirt track. I'm thankful to pull up onto the concrete; the cracks are easier to deal with than the tree roots.

Cranking on the handbrake, I lean over my passenger seat, ignoring the piles of crumpled paperwork, until my hands find the slim handle of my flashlight. It's a weighty piece of equipment, but its light slices through the gloom easily as I step out of the car.

I glance over the shadowed scene of the abandoned warehouse, the moon beginning to rise behind it. The silence from the surrounding trees only makes the squeak of the metal doors echo louder. I can't help my mind running to who or what I might find inside, and whether it might be dangerous.

I can handle myself well in a fight, but I'd rather it not come to that. The whole uncertainty of the situation makes me anxious. My hand travels to the gun and pepper spray on my belt, though the gesture doesn't help to settle my nerves as much as I'd hoped.

I can't tell if it's the chill night air or worry that makes me suddenly shiver, but I do my best to brush the feeling away.

I press onwards into the warehouse, hoping to get this over with as quickly as possible.

* * *

**_Inside The Warehouse_ **

Inside, I sweep my flashlight across the interior of the warehouse, the beam of light flashing through the murky darkness. It definitely seems empty, though I'm not sure if that is a relief, or more of a concern.

My shoes hit the dirt-caked floor, and I glance down. The tiles must have been rather beautiful at one point. Hints of yellow and red jut out between the dried mud, dust, and plants as my shoes scuff against them.

Graffiti lines most of the crumbling walls--all of it spray-painted with perfect spelling and grammar. God forbid one of the rebellious rich kids' parents find out they had spelled 'this place stinks' incorrectly. I roll my eyes at the mild language and tidy handwriting before wondering where to start.  _Better check around here first..._

Deciding that where I am is as good a place as any to begin, I move further inside. My light flashes across the wide space, the beam glancing off a cluster of burnt tin drums. A few ragged blankets are crumpled around them. I move closer to inspect.

I don't find anyone homeless there, but there's definitely evidence that someone had been camping here.  _Maybe something spooked them to move on?_ I try not to let my thoughts linger on that idea and begin walking the edges of the large room.

Nothing seems overly out of place. Remains of old factory machines lie rusted and heaped in the centre, and a soft glow of moonlight through the doors gives a pretty clear view of the whole area.

It's not until I near the doors again that I notice the flutter of plastic from on of the walls, like a curtain flowing in the breeze.

I swallow hard, balling my free hand into a tense fist at my side before relaxing my fingers. With slow, steady footsteps I approach the plastic curtain, readying myself for whatever might lie beyond.

A sudden flurry of movement sounds from behind me, and my heart leaps into my throat.

On instinct, I unholster my gun and spin around, pointing the barrel at the noise.

I let out a sharp breath when I realize it's just a flock of pigeons flying from the rafters. "Thank God no one was around to see that..."

With my nerves truly shredded, I shove my gun back into its holster. I am just about to strap it back in when I flinch again at the shrill ring of my phone from my pocket.

The ringing stings against my hearing, which had grown used to the heavy silence. I snap my phone out of my pocket and press it to my ear without looking at who's calling. "Detective Sanders," I say, my voice coming out in barely more than a whisper.

"You alright, Detective?" Verda asks from the other end.

I clear my throat at the sound of his voice, shaking myself from the burst of adrenaline beginning to drain from my body. "Yeah, just got a bit of a scare at the warehouse."

"Are you alright? Do you need me to send someone to you?"

"There you go again, Verda, being concerned for me," I say with a chuckle. I lean against the windowsill nearby, quickly changing my mind when the dust leaves a stain on my coat.

His laugh echoes from the phone. "Well, excuse me for being worried. You never know; it could be something worse than a murderer, like a ghost."

"A ghost, really?" I scoff.

"Or a werewolf. It is a full moon, after all."

I give a chuckle, glancing out through the dirt-stained window to the bright moon beyond. The moonlight highlights the tops of the skeletal trees that stretch out towards town. "As if anything that exciting would find its way to Wayhaven," I say in a heavy tone.

"Though speaking of strange things, I found something odd about our victim..." He lets his words trail off and I shift on the spot, waiting for him to continue.

"So odd it's shocked you into silence?" I ask.

"Almost," he replies, followed by a soft chuckle. "It's her blood." There's the sound of shuffling papers down the phone. "It's not hers."

I frown deeply, wondering if I heard him correctly. "What?"

"The blood in her body isn't hers. In fact, it's not even fully human."

"Animal blood?" I offer as a guess.

"I'm not sure," He says, followed by a heavy sigh. "It resembles human blood, but it's definitely not all hers. The best way I can think of to describe it so far is that a parasitic virus has mutated the blood cells in a major way."

As I continue to talk, I decide to start making my way out of the warehouse. The echo of my voice around the empty room is a bit distracting.

"Is it contagious?" I ask, a beat of worry in my tone. "Like a disease?"

"No, not that I call tell so far," He says. "I won't know anything for certain until I get the results of the tests, but I'll make sure to send them off to the hospital first thing tomorrow."

For all the modern appliances the station has, coincidentally donated by the mayor after his son decided to join the force, there isn't enough room for the big machines. Any testing has to be done at the local hospital.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yeah, see you then," He says.

I hit the end call button and shove the phone back in my pocket, grabbing the metal door to head outside--only for someone to come barreling into me from behind, sending me flying through the door.

I collide heavily with the concrete and let out a loud hiss as pain jolts through my chest and arms. My flashlight skids across the concrete, the beam blinding me as it comes to rest a few feet away, shining brightly in my eyes.

Forcing myself onto my hands and knees, I glance up, my body stiffening to see a shadowed figure looming over my in the moonlight.

"Who...who are you?" I call, while trying to scramble back onto my feet. Pain lances down my back, but I ignore it so I can force myself to stand.

There is no reaction from the stranger. I can barely make them out in the darkness, but it would seem they are a man--a gangly one.

We stand opposite each other, neither making a sound. I'm unsure what to do next. My breath clouds into white plumes as it hits the cold air, and I ball my fists at my sides.

"What do you want--" My question is cut short as, out of the darkness, another figure slams into the side of the man I had just been looking at.

The two of them crash to one side, rolling behind my car. There is a loud grunt, then the distinctive sound of concrete cracking under force.

I make to step forward, but my path is suddenly blocked by the appearance of three more people, hidden by the night's darkness. Heavily outnumbered and completely confused, I have no choice now but to reach for my gun.

My hand flashes down to my hip where my gun is, but my fingers find only an empty holster.

I frown, confused, then remember I hadn't had the chance to do the strap back up after getting the weapon out earlier. Groaning at the memory, I sway on my feet, glancing around the darkened area and spotting my gun laying discarded not far from the flashlight.

With steady steps, I manage to grab it up, spin on my heel, and point it at the group of shadowed figures before me. The sounds of fighting are still echoing from behind my car. None of the figures seem to pay me much attention, a fact I am thankful for. Instead, they are all focused on the fight continuing out of sight behind my car.

As I sunk in a sharp breath, the sudden cold hits my lungs and shocks me from my momentary paralysis of confusion and anxiety. I take a wide step forward and call, "Everyone stop! I'm with the police!"

The heads of the three figures snap around to face me, and I flinch at the eerily quick motion.

"Who the hell is he?" One of them asks.

"A police officer, obviously," Another replies, no small amount of sarcasm in their tone.

The car besides us suddenly rocks slightly, the two people behind it finally surfacing. The taller of the two slams the other onto the bonnet of my car, and I frown as the metal buckles beneath the heavy impact.

"Alright, that's enough!" I yell, surprised at the commanding tone to my voice, considering the situation.

The figure holding the man down glances up at my words, but as soon as they do, their captive cracks his fist against their jaw. The captor stumbles back from the impact. I have to blink rapidly as the man flashes past me in a blur so fast it can't be real.

"Don't let him go!" The figure calls, rubbing their jaw from the hit.

The group tenses, obviously about to run after the speeding figure. But I move forwards and come to stand before them, my gun still raised. "Stay where you are!"

Amazingly, they do--all four of them--and it gives me a slight boost in confidence.

 _Four?_ I sudden realize just how outnumbered I am, and my breathing speeds up a little. I can barely see them through the dark, not even able to make out their genders or specific features.

My eyes flicker to my car where my radio is. The group of them now stand as a barrier between me and the vehicle. Backup is out of the question.

Still, I have my gun.

I tighten my fingers around the hilt of the weapon, finger hovering over the trigger.  _Please, don't make me use this again..._

There are times when it's been necessary to pull the trigger, but I really don't want to have to do it again. My grip falters slightly, but I try to keep my stance straight and unmoving.

One of the shadowed figures shuffles a step closer. "Look, whoever you are--"

"Don't come any closer," I warn.

"Or what?" Another asks from the darkness, the question coming out in a half-taunt. I swing my gun around to face the speaker, though I can barely make them out in the gloom.

I lick my dry lips, though my throat is do dry it doesn't help any. "I will shoot." My voice wavers slightly, but I try to hold my ground.

The gun suddenly feels like an iron weight in my hands, my fingers aching to keep it raised.

There is a heavy silence, broken only by my heavy breathing and the slight breeze that rattles through the surrounding trees.

"He's bluffing," One of them suddenly says. "I say knock him out and let's go."

There's a quick shift of movement from the corner of my eye as one of them steps closer. I turn to them with a sharp breath and shoot.

The crack of the gun is like lightning as it pierces through the quiet. I grit my teeth as the recoil sends a spasm pulsing up my arm and into my shoulder. My body is still battered from my fall earlier, though I manage to keep my balance.

And amazingly, so does the person I shot.

For a moment I wonder if I hit them at all, but they suddenly give a small grunt and grab their right shoulder.

They should have been on the floor after being shot at such close range!

"Shit! He actually shot you!" There is a peal of laughter from one of the other figures, and my eyes widen to hear amusement in it and not concern for their friend.

"Please, I don't want to do it again." I call, raising the gun with slight difficulty, a knot of guilt tightening in my stomach. "I just need you to come to the station."

"Do feel free to do it again," The one who was laughing says, amusement still staining their words.

"Shut up," The wounded one growls through the darkness.

Their conversation makes me swallow hard, and I try to plant my feet firmer on the ground to steady myself.

**Bang!**

A metallic bang makes me swing around, only to find it's the doors of the warehouse creaking in the breeze. I turn back to face the group...but they've vanished.

_How could they be gone? I didn't even hear footsteps!_

With a heavy sigh, I stumble towards my car and lean heavily against the side. Adrenaline courses through my body, but I know in the morning I am going to hurt like never before.

A dull ache throbbing at my side proves my point. My gaze turns down to the crumpled dents in the bonnet of my car, and I groan.  _I better check around the scene a bit first._

Even with my body beginning to ache, I know I should look around before leaving, as much as my bed is calling to me. I push myself up and limp back towards the area where the fight and the strangers were.

I bend down to retrieve my flashlight and pass the beam over the area. There is nothing of interest. I am just about to give up and head home when the light catches something dark and glistening on the concrete. I shift over to it, crouching down to find it is blood.

 _Must be from the person I shot._ Moving back towards my car, I grab a small evidence kit and scoop up some of the blood on the cotton swab, figuring it can't hurt to test it out. I might get lucky and they might be in the system.

With a satisfied nod, I hobble back to my car, really beginning to feel the aftershock of my earlier fall. The car engine coughs to life as I stick the key in the ignition. I put it into gear the moment it starts, never having been so eager to get home.

* * *

I wince with each step I take upstairs towards my home, shoving the key into the lock so I can get inside. "Ow..." I mutter as I strip out of my clothes almost as soon as I close the door.  _I better take a shower._ The idea of hot, pounding water on my body already starts to ease a little of the throbbing aches that have littered my battered frame.

I head to the bathroom and turn on the water, letting it heat up. I glance over myself in the mirror, already seeing a couple of bruises forming on my lightly tanned skin. Double checking the temperature of the water, I shift it so it now came out of the showerhead and moan at just how good the hot water feels against my battered and cold body.

My thoughts slowly move from the blissful shower I was taking to the group of strangers I encountered.  _Who on earth were they?_ It was clear to me that they weren't from the area, I might have recognized them if they were. Though, that wasn't what bothered me the most; that trophy goes to how they just up and disappeared. No human should have been able to do that, but...were they really human?  _Of course they are, Virgil. They have to be!_  Though... I think back to the conversation I had with Verda moments before all of that chaos and I have to wonder if maybe something like a werewolf or vampire did manage to find its way to Wayhaven.

I shake my head, the water being flung around the stall.  _There's no way they were vampires...right?_


	4. Chapter 3

**_The Next Morning_ **

It's difficult to decide between 'weirdos' or 'creepy shadow people' as I'm typing up my report the next morning. Not only had I discharged my gun, I'd actually injured one of them, which adds a whole new file of paperwork to fill in.  _I can't just shirk my responsibilities._

Paperwork is tedious, there's no getting around that, but I can't just ignore it. It needs to be done or we'll have no record of the encounter, which could come back to bite me later. I glance up for a moment, staring out of my office's glass partition to the station beyond, before settling down further into my chair and getting to work. That is, until footsteps sound from the doorway.

I look up to see Douglas fidgeting uneasily. "Is there something you need, Douglas?" I ask, watching as he shifts from foot to foot.

"It's just..." He clears his throat, flicking his head to the side so his bangs reveal his eyes a little more: big, puppy dog eyes which I imagine often get him out of a lot of trouble. "You took my phone yesterday. I wondered if I could have it back now? I promise I won't do it again!"

 _Oh crap._ I had completely forgotten. My gaze darts to my jacket hanging on the coat rack next to him, where his phone is still hidden in the inner pocket.  _...I think he's learned his lesson._

"Oh, I'm so sorry, kid," I say, pushing myself out of my seat and striding towards my jacket. "Yesterday was a bit...hectic. I didn't mean to forget it."

"It's alright, Detective." He offers a genuine smile, and I'm thankful for his understanding.

I grab the phone from the pocket of my coat and throw it towards him. "Here you go."

He fumbles to catch it, but manages in the end. "Thanks!" And with cheery gratitude, he heads back to his desk.

Suddenly, a welcome visitor peers around my doorway.

"You okay, Virgil?" Tina asks, worry in her words. She moves further into the room and shuts the door to my office.

I raise a brow at her concern. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Verda told me you went to the Farris Warehouse on a hunch. Did it pay off?" She glances over me. I'm sitting slightly hunched, my body still aching from the confrontation last night. "Are you're not exactly looking so good."

"Yeah, the victim had some blurred photos of the warehouse," I reply. "So I went to check it out. It ended up being a popular place last night, apparently."

She balances herself on the edge of my desk besides me. "Who were they? Did you find anything?"

"Well, I managed to collect this off one of the strangers," I say, pulling the blood sample I collected from the top drawer of my desk.

Her brows arch in surprise. "How did you manage to get that? I can't believe they were willing to just let you take it."

I purse my lips for a moment. "It wasn't willingly, no. I may have shot one of them."

"You what?" Her eyes widen so big I worry they might not ever closer again.

"It was a tense night," I say in my defense, placing the blood sample down on the desk beside her.

She calms a little, a smile lighting her eyes. "I don't doubt you did what you had to."

"Can you take it down to Verda for me?"

"Sure thing; I've got to get going on my patrol soon anyway." Her smile turns mischievous. "I'm pretty sure my route goes past Haley's Bakery." She leaves with a spring in her step.

I try to get back to work, my stomach grumbling at the mention of pastries.

* * *

**_Later That Day_ **

The rest of the morning passes slowly. The patrol finds nothing unusual, and our reliable scouts around town (the elderly who just love to curtain-watch whenever they get the chance) also haven't seen anything stranger, nor any new visitors to Wayhaven.

I slap down the phone I had been speaking to Tina on and run my hands over my face. Picking up the coffee I made myself a few minutes before, not having a chance all morning, I gulp back a mouthful. Then I almost spit it back out over my desk, gagging on the cold slop which fills my mouth. It takes all my strength to swallow it down, my face pinching together to force it past my tongue.

"What is this?" I yell, holding up the offending drink towards Douglas through the glass partition.

He spins on his chair to face me through the window, glances at the drink, then shrugs. "The kettle's broken."

"And no one thought to tell me?"

He purses his lips. "I just did."

I try to grumble through my anger and push myself out of my chair to head to the small kitchen area. The red light on the kettle blinks at me like a heartbeat--a weak one. I lean down towards it, peering at the white plastic shell of the machine. _Poor thing, let me fix you up_ _._

After unplugging the machine, I pull off the bottom of the casing and have a look inside. It's pretty obvious what the problem is as soon as I examine it, so I set to work.

A few minutes later the kettle whirs to life, the red light flashing happily away. I stand back, placing my hands on my hips and giving a pleased nod.

"You always did have a knack for technology." The new voice makes me whirl around, and my brows arch in surprise to see the woman standing before me.

"Mum!"

She smiles at me, placing a gentle hand on my arm in greeting.

It's more than a bit of a shock to find her standing before me. She's usually away, due to her work--a fact that hadn't changed even when I was a child. I quickly wrap my arms around her; being as close to her as I am, I'm not surprised as a little smile cracks her lips.

"It's so good to see you," I say with a bright smile, both of us leaning into the welcoming embrace.

She pulls back, running her hand over my cheek. "I'm sorry it hasn't been sooner."

"It's alright," I reply, leading her towards my office. "We've both been pretty busy."

As we head inside, she glances over to the whiteboard I had set to one side, with notes and photos of the murder placed on it. "So I can see." She takes a seat on the other side of the desk, and I move to sit in my own chair.

"Why are you here?" I finally ask, leaning back in my chair a little to examine her. She hasn't changed much.

She's always had a mature, commanding presence. She looks younger than she is, though I do notice a few new wrinkles on her forehead, accentuated by the uncertain frown she now pulls. She looks out of place against the clutter of my office in her pristine grey suit, bright white shirt, and stiff, formal posture. "The title of Agent Rebecca Sanders growing a bit dull?" I say.

She shakes her head, folding her elegant hands into her lap. "No, work is going fine."

A vague response, but that's not unusual. Every time I've attempted to find out more about her job, I'm always met with the same mysterious replies before the conversation quickly changes. The most I know is that she works for some shadowy government agency.

She tells me, "In fact, that's partly why I'm here."

"Oh?"

"The case you're working on..." Her gaze shifts over to the whiteboard once again. "It's bigger than you think."

"The whole thing did seem to be beyond an accident," I reply, leaning forwards slightly and bringing my fingers to my lips in thought. "Or even a first-time murder."

"A keen observation," She replies with pride in her tone. It quickly leaves as her professional expression returns. "The..." She clears her throat, her brows knotting in a slight frown, as though stumbling for a word. "The man you're looking for has killed before, in many places."

I swallow hard and try not to show my disturbance at this news. "And now he's picked Wayhaven as his killing ground?"

"We've been tracking him for months." She stands from her chair and begins pacing. "But I don't believe he will be leaving Wayhaven for some time, so now is our last chance to catch him."

"Why won't he be leaving?" I slump back in my chair, a little disheartened by all of this information. She twists around to face me, her lips set into a tight line. I sigh in sudden understanding. "It's classified."

She nods. "I'm afraid so. But there is something I can offer you." I perk up at this. It must be serious if I'm being offered resources by whomever she works for. "It's something the mayor is keen for you to utilize." My excitement deflates a little.

I swallow down my annoyance of the mayor's lack of faith in my ability and attempt a smile. "Well, any help you can give is appreciated."

"I'm glad to hear it; you won't regret it. Trust me." She is obviously pleased, but my smile falters a little.

Rebecca closes the gap to my desk, placing a hand on mine. "I know you can solve this. Otherwise, the Agency wouldn't have allowed me to let you lead such a big case. They'd be asking me to take over instead."

I smile up at her, grateful for the encouraging words, even if I'm not sure I wholly believe them. She pats my hand and moves away, letting out a small sigh.

"So, what is it you're offering?" I ask.

"My unit."

I arch a brow. "Pardon?"

"My unit, the team of agents I command." She gives a half-smile at my obvious surprise.

"I didn't even know you had a team. I thought you ran some department--"

"I do," She quickly interrupts. Once again, she stops the conversation about her work before it even begins.

I watch as she moves to the doorway, gesturing towards the front doors of the station. I try to peer around her to see who she is calling, but I can't see anything until four men march into the room after my mother.

It's hard to keep my jaw from dropping; the group of them look as though they strode straight off the catwalk into my office. I eventually stumble onto my feet and move around my desk.

With six of us now crammed into my office, it's beginning to feel a little crowded. However, when I meet the eye of one of the group and he offers a smile, I relax a little.

"Detective Virgil Sanders, I'd like you to meet my team: Unit Bravo."

None of them says anything in response, and silence begins to descend on the room like an uncomfortable blanket.

"Welcome to Wayhaven," I say, my voice as bright as my smile. "I'm sure you'll settle in just fine here."

Most of them give disbelieving frowns, but the one that offered the smile just moments before steps forward and holds out a hand. "Thank you, Detective Sanders," He replies. "If everyone is as welcoming as you, I'm sure we'll be most happy here." There is a grunt of protest from one of the people behind him, but he ignores it.

Eventually I take his hand and give a firm shake. "And you are?"

"My name is Nathaniel Sewell, but I prefer Nate." There's no distinguishable accent. None at all. Once again he gives a bright, warm smile, making his dark brown eyes sparkle.

He's tall, incredibly so, having had to duck through the doorway to enter. At least six foot four, at a guess. He withdraws his hand, shoving it into the pocket of his jeans.

The earthy tones he wears complement his tawny-colored skin. His dark brown hair is styled up, as casual as his whole being seems to portray, from the leather jacket, open shirt, t-shirt, and jeans, to the way he leans back on his heels slightly as he stands.

His lips are still curled into a smile when my gaze has finished passing over him, as though he knew I was inspecting him and was happy to allow it.

Nate steps back into the line-up of his group, standing beside a man a few inches shorter than he is. The man stares at me for a short moment, his posture stiff, and his expression stern.

Thankfully, one of the others approaches me before I have to deal with that rather imposing stranger. "I'm Felix," The approaching man says, a more American accent to his tone. "Felix Hauville."

He's quite obviously the youngest of the group. He's dressed in skinny jeans, a long t-shirt half-covered by a heavy cotton scarf, a waistcoat, and a loose-fitting hat that covers his short, black, coiled hair.

His rich, dark brown skin almost seems to gleam gold in the sunlight, his strong features and jawline contrasting with the soft smile he throws me. I reach out to take his hand.

He shakes it for a moment before clasping it tighter and sauntering a step closer. He's much shorter than Nate, five foot seven at most, but his entire being is rather overwhelming as he stands so close.

"A true delight to meet you, Detective," He coos, bringing my fingers up to his shapely lips.

"A delight to meet you too," I reply, his deep amber-colored eyes meeting mine before he presses his lips against my fingers. I can't help the light thrill which travels through me at the contact. I've certainly never had such a warm greeting before!

"Felix!" My mother's sharp tone cut through the room.

He lets my hand drop. "I think I'm going to like you, Detective," He says, winking at me before he steps away. I notice Nate shake his head in an exasperated manner at Felix, but the man only gives a bright grin in return.

I shake away the previous introduction, turning to the dark-haired stranger on my right. I am still attempting not to look at the stern man standing beside Nate, who continues to examine me with a narrowed gaze.

"And you are?" I ask, holding out a hand in greeting once again.

"Finding all of this unnecessary," He replies curtly, a gentle, lilting accent to his statement I can't quite recognize.

"That's a rather long name, don't you think?" I say, half-smiling to lighten his mood. "Do you have a shorter one?"

"Ha!" Felix bursts out laughing, nudging the man in front of me, who stumbles slightly. "Not so clever now, are you, Mason?"

"He is Specialist Agent Mason," My mother confirms.

The man introduced as Mason sneers at his companion. He stands slightly hunched over, though he still has to be about six feet. Waves of layered dark brown hair hang around his long face; his straight nose and narrow eyes give him a rather wolfish appearance.

The shadow of heavy stubble accentuates his sharp jawline, and his deep tan skin his painted with light freckles. The freckles cover his nose and cheeks, continuing down his neck until they are hidden by a long-sleeved, tight-fitting t-shirt and heavy black jeans. Cords of leather sit around his neck and are tied around his wrists.

A crystal dangles on one of the cords, but I barely get a chance to see it before he notices where my gaze has fallen and slips it inside his shirt.

I fold my arms across my chest. "Charmed."

"You shouldn't be," He replies, his voice monotone. Now he's just trying to bait me, a dangerous glint flashing in his stormy grey eyes, shadowed by heavy brows. I glare at him, not wanting to act unprofessional, but seriously debating it.

"Save it, Mason," A voice commands, and I stiffen in eerie recognition.

I turn to the imposing, stern-looking man and frown in confusion. My mother steps forward, a proud smile on her face, yet I continue to stare, his voice still echoing in my mind.

_It was the same one from outside of the warehouse last night. I'm sure of it._

"Ah, Virgil, let me introduce you to the team leader: Commanding Agent Adam du Mortain." Our narrowed stares hold before my mother steps closer once more and leans over to whisper, "Is something wrong?"

I shake my head and blink out of my silence. "No, it's nothing. Sorry."

It's ridiculous to think it was him; must just be my imagination... It was a pretty intense night, easy to get confused. Plus, I did shoot whoever it was last night. Looking over the group, no one seems to be doubled over in pain from a close-ranger pistol shot.

Then, for the last time, I offer out my hand in introduction. Adam stares down at it as though the gesture is completely foreign, but does eventually take it.

"I look forward to working with you," He says, every word spoken in a distinct British accent, and each one also sounding like a lie.

"Likewise," I reply, pulling my hand back and pressing it against my thigh to stop the aching in my fingers from his surprisingly firm grasp.

He turns his gaze quickly away, but I let mine linger for a moment.

He's the second tallest of the group, easily six foot one, with broad shoulders and an athletic build obvious beneath his grey t-shirt and dark combat trousers. His pale, creamy skin barely has a tan or flush to it at all, and his dark blonde hair is only just visible, cut so close to his head.

Everything about him screams soldier, including his stiff, upright posture and emotionless face. Still, I can't deny his Roman nose and square features make him remarkably handsome.

I flinch slightly as his icy green gaze flicks back to meet mine, and I'm forced to look away.

"Well, now that introductions have been made, I hope you'll all work together to find the murderer," My mother says, her gaze shifting pointedly over her team. "Unit Bravo were only assigned this case a couple of weeks ago themselves, so they'll be as fresh as you. But I'm proud of their accomplishments so far, and have no doubt they will aid you to their highest abilities."

Mason scoffs from where he's balanced himself against a side table in the furthest corner.

My mother ignores him, striding past the group towards me. "I'm giving you my team to help, so use them as best you can. They are experienced at this kind of work."

She pulls me into a quick goodbye hug, pressing a kiss on my cheek. It's a more affectionate and motherly goodbye than usual, but I return her hug. "Well, I'll see you soon, Virgil." My mother heads towards the door, pulling her long jacket about herself tighter. "Adam, don't forget the reason your team is here." I frown at the look she throws the leader of the group, a silent exchange passing between them before her heels click over the floor as she leaves.

_They don't have discipline issues do they? Or is there something else going on with this case?_

Shaking away the strange moment, I decide where to begin briefing Unit Bravo.

_They've got to be used to having more resources available, might as well inform them that things might take a little more time than they're used to._

I stand behind my desk, pulling out the very thin file on the murder. When I glance up, I find the group have already settled themselves about the room. Their casualness together makes me feel very much like the newcomer, but I brush the feeling away and straighten myself.

"We know little about the crime at the moment, due to our limited resources," I begin. The only one who really seems to be paying attention is Nate. "But we gathered a good amount of evidence with the aid of the city's crime scene technicians. We are a small town, with very little crime--"

"Very little crime that you are aware of," Adam says suddenly from where he stands looking out of the window.

I glance over at him, raising a brow. "Excuse me?"

"The police are not always the ones to be notified of crimes," He repeats, not bothering to look at me as he speaks.  _I know that, buddy; if you knew about my past, you'd know that's common knowledge for me._

"Well, considering this is the first murder I have been notified of, I will be doing my best to solve it." I turn my attention back to the file. "We did manage to find the victim's phone, which my colleague, Tina Poname, is currently working through. As for the murder itself--"

"We already know about the murder," Adam says, twisting himself around to face me fully.

I grit my teeth at the repeated interruptions. "Still, I would like to go through all the facts before continuing, so as we're all on the same page. As I said, this is my first murder case. I would like to be prepared."

He crosses his arms in response, his biceps stretching the sleeves of his t-shirt to the point I fear it will tear. "We can handle this. This isn't our first murder, Detective." My title drips from his tongue like he's appeasing a five-year-old. "There have already been multiple kills related to this target--"  _Oh this egotistical, thick-headed, mother--_

I let out a calming breath, close my eyes for a moment, then snap them open. "I will not let you railroad me into rushing through this investigation."

"Maybe not rushing," Felix adds, "but our leader does like to be hastily efficient." He lets out a snigger of laughter, though Adam only arches a blonde brow at my statement.

Adam stares at me, his eyes slightly narrowed, though apparently in inspection rather than anger. As I stare back at him, holding my ground, I feel an odd tension course through my limbs at our held gaze. At first I figure it's guilt from interrupting him, but when the tension grows and my skin tingles with heat, I soon realize the feeling has nothing to do with guilt or anger. The effect lingers for a moment, and I continue to hold his gaze, curling my lips into a smirk. He snaps his head away, a small frown creasing his brow.

"Can we just get on with the job now?" Mason asks, interrupting the silence. He fumbles in the pocket of his jeans before drawing out a gleaming silver lighter, then perching a long cigarette between his lips.

"I'm sorry, but you can't smoke in here," I say, giving a half-smile in apology. He stares at me for a moment before flicking open the lighter.

A small flame sparks to life, searing the end of the cigarette and making it glow red. He inhales deeply, holding my gaze, before puffing out a long stream of grey smoke.

 _This is the team my mother is so proud of?_  I scoff at the thought.  _She can keep them._

Adam's arms drop to his sides. "Mason's right. We should get on with the task at hand, rather than discussing details we already know."

"Actually," I begin, "I think it would be good to make sure we all know the same facts."

But my words aren't even heard as Adam begins barking out orders to his team members. His suggestions are to check out newcomers to town, search any unused locations around the borders, and interrogate--interrogate, not interview--anybody who may have seen what happened.

The group rise from their places like dogs eager to follow his command.

_Enough is enough!_

I step out from around my desk and plant my feet firmly on the floor. "You cannot just barrel in here and crash about town in the hopes of finding a deranged murderer hiding out there somewhere!" My voice is louder and more commanding than I expected, making even Douglas glance up from the front desk and tense.

The tall, broad-shouldered leader turns slowly to face me, seeming once again more curious than angered. "Following my lead is the only way we'll catch the killer."

I shake my head. "Working together, with me, is the only way we're going to catch him." I look over each of them in turn, trying to keep my expression static and my tone calm. "I know this town. You don't."

Adam's lips tighten only a fraction, but it's enough to let me know he's finally listening, even if just a little.

A heavy silence reigns over the office once again, and I'm thankful when Nate steps into the centre of the room, like some kind of referee during a boxing match. ...Well, ego match would be more appropriate at the moment.

"We're a large group," He says, resting a hand on Adam's shoulder as though bringing him out of silent thoughts. "Certainly large enough to split our resources." He looks at me, smiling and giving a nod of encouragement. "What do you suggest we do, Detective?"

The hostility in the team leader's posture settles, reminding me of a bird calming ruffled feathers, and he spins away from me. I let out a subtle, calming breath and lean back against my desk, thinking over my options.  _Might be best to talk to the witness Tina managed to track down._

"I would suggest talking with the witness Tina managed to find," I say, sitting back on my desk.

"Then I will go with you," Nate offers. "And the rest can go with Adam to--"

Felix steps forward between us. "I think it was 'crash about town,'" He says, repeating my words from earlier and gaining a stern glare from Nate.

I run a hand over my hair. "That sounds like a good idea. We can all meet back here in a few hours?" Both Nate and I turn to look at Adam, who remains silent for a moment. Eventually, he gives a stiff nod. "Fine, but take Mason with you."

"What?" Mason barks out the word, almost falling from his makeshift seat on the side table.

Adam looks at him. "You're best with witnesses..." He trails off, a meaning behind his words I'm obviously not allowed to understand.

Mason groans and rolls his eyes before pushing himself up and moving towards Nate.

"We'll meet back in a few hours then," Adam says. And that is that. He strides out of my office, followed close behind by Felix, looking like some strange type of entourage.

"Well, that meeting probably could have gone better..." I mutter quietly. I jump in surprise when it seems Nate heard what I mumbled.

He chuckles softly, half-smiling at me. "It went better than most meetings Adam has." I return the smile, all the intensity of the moments before draining away with Nate's apparently much calmer presence. "I'm sorry about Adam. We don't often work with others, and I don't think he's too worried about improving his social etiquette when we do."

I shrug. "Don't worry about it."

"I worry because I don't want your first impression of our team--your mother's team--to be based on Adam's poor social skills." He gives a cheerful laugh.

_...I really should thank him._   

"Hey, thanks for diffusing the tense situation from before," I say, genuinely appreciative of his actions.

"It's something I have grown used to doing," He replies, seemingly half in joke and half in concealed annoyance.

I grab up my things and head towards the door. "Shall we get going?"

"Finally," Mason mutters, already marching out of my office.

"What's the address? We'll meet you there." Nate says, his gaze shifting to Mason slamming open the glass doors of the station. "I'm not sure he'll travel well with company."

I can't help but agree and turn to note down the address. "Here it is."

He gives a wide smile and nods, glancing down at the paper.

As he reaches the doorway, I glance up at him, craning my neck all the way to meet his eyes. "You seem a lot different to the others in your team."

He gives a chuckle, a deep sound that reverberates from his chest and seems to vibrate through the air and land on my skin. "I'm more like them than I would care to admit." His voice wavers, and I frown as I'm sure I hear a tone of regret in his words.

* * *

_**At the Witness's House** _

Parking at the curb of the long, plain street, I step out of my car and glance over the redbrick building before me. It's the apartment building attached to the alleyway where the victim was found. It doesn't look any cleaner or more pleasant from the front.  _It doesn't smell as bad, as least..._

"Detective."

I spin around at the sound of my title, watching as Nate and Mason approach from around the corner. They both look over the building too, apparently an unimpressed with it as I am.

"It's sad to think people have to live in these kinds of places," Nate says, genuine sympathy in his tone.

Mason shakes his head. "It's not as bad as it could be. They should be thankful they have a place at all."

"True." I say in agreement, gaining a look of surprise from Nate. Mason seems to be barely paying attention. "I've been in some places rough enough to make this look like a blessing."

"Let's get on with it," Mason says, stepping forwards. "I'm not keen on staying here longer than needed."

I frown, confused by his eagerness to leave. "Didn't Adam send you along because you're good with witnesses?"

"I'm good at telling when people are lying," He replies matter-of-factly. "And then extracting the truth when they do." A hint of pride hangs on his words.

Nate steps up between us, gesturing to the door on our right. "This is the apartment block?"

"Yeah," I reply, placing my focus back on work. "Our witness is a Mrs. Hudders: 65, lives alone, low income."

"Do you know of her?" Nate asks. "It's a small town."

I'd like to contradict him, but it's true that I know most people in Wayhaven--if not personally, then by reputation. Still, I know nothing of this woman.

"No, I don't," I reply, while moving up to the door and scanning the names beside buttons. I press the one marked 'Mrs. Frida Hudders.'

The speaker crackles to life, an older female voice echoing from it. "Yes, hello. Who is it, please?"

"My name is Virgil Sanders," I reply. "I'm with the police department. May I come in?"

"Oh, yes, of course!" Mrs. Hudders chimes. "That lovely lady, Tina, told me you might stop by. Of course, come in!" The door buzzes and I grab the handle and yank it open, smiling slightly to myself.

"Nicely done, Detective," Nate says with a nod as we all head inside.

Inside, we travel through the first floor corridor until we reach apartment six, where we find a woman waiting in her doorway for us. She smiles wide, a line of very obvious false teeth on full display. "You're the detective?"

I give a nod, moving aside my jacket to reveal the badge on my belt. She doesn't even glance at it, which is unsurprising considering she already has to squint to see us. The heavy line of bright blue eyeshadow plastered onto her drooping lids probably doesn't help either, even if it does nicely match the color of her blue-rinse hair.

"These are my..." I turn to look at the two agents beside me, then back at Mrs. Hudders. "...My colleagues." It's as good a word as any to describe them.

"You're all very welcome," She says, holding out a pink, wrinkled hand, decorated by heavy gold rings I'm surprised don't weigh down her thin arms. I shake her hand, then follow her inside the small apartment.

She leads us into the living room, the space bright and tidy, decorated in white wood and magnolia paint. I take a seat on the cream cotton sofa and Nate moves to sit beside me, while Mason lingers to one side.

"Oh, you're a rather ruggedly handsome man, aren't you?" Mrs. Hudders says to Mason, a chuckle to her words and a gleam in her eyes.

Nate almost seems to burst out laughing at the distressed look on Mason's face as she speaks to him.

"Now then, my dears." She settles into the seat opposite us. "What would you like to know about that terrible murder?"

_Well, let's see if she knows anything about the victim._ I hold back my frown at the thought of the poor woman I saw in Verda's lab. I lean forwards, placing my hands on my knees. "Did you know the victim at all, Mrs. Hudders?"

"No, poor girl," The old lady replies, letting out a heavy sigh. "We don't have many new people move in around here."

My gaze shifts sideways as Nate glances purposefully at Mason, who eyes Mrs. Hudders before giving a stiff nod. I frown at the strange looks before focusing once again on the witness.  _It's like he's reading her body language for something..._

_Any more details about this case would help._ I think as I quickly wet my lips before asking my next question. I shuffle forwards, my knees nearly hitting the low, polished coffee table. "Do you remember much from the night of the murder?"

"It was like any other night, really," She says, glancing down and frowning. "Nothing out of the ordinary. I watched some TV, almost fell asleep because the show was so boring!" I half-smile at her.

Once again, I'm distracted by Nate shifting his focus to Mason, who once more stares at Mrs. Hudders before nodding sharply. I'm about to ask what exactly is going on when the elderly woman frowns deeply. "There was..." She begins, before shaking her head and smiling. "No, it's probably nothing."

We all focus on her much more intently. "Please, Mrs. Hudders, go on," Nate encourages, offering a soft smile with his words.

"Well, I doubt it's useful." She shrugs. "But I'm certain I heard someone singing in the alleyway."

"Singing?" I repeat. I don't know what I expected her to say, but it certainty wasn't that.

"Not singing, exactly, more like--"

"Chanting," Mason cuts in.

The old woman points at him and nods. "Exactly. A mumbling chant of some kind."

The two agents once again share a tense look before Nate's brow shifts into a heavy frown.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudders. That's all we need," He says suddenly, rising from his place. He holds out a hand, which the old woman eagerly grips and shakes. "We won't take up any more of your time."

He slips his hand out of the woman's grasp before striding over to Mason. They then both march out of the apartment, leaving me on the sofa staring wide-eyed after them.

I scramble to my feet, thanking her as well before having to nearly jog out of the apartment to catch up with them. They are already almost halfway down the hallway.

_Okay, they know something._ I jog to catch up with them, both of them turning to stare at me as I approach as though only now remembering I was with them. "So, you obviously know something," I say, glancing between them. "Could you please tell me what it is?"

Mason shakes his head before turning on his heel and marching from the building. I almost whine at his action, since he wordlessly said that he couldn't.

Nate sighs, an apologetic smile on his face. "I'm sorry, Detective. We just..." He shifts slightly. "We didn't think we would get anything useful out of Mrs. Hudders."

I cross my arms across my chest and quirk a brow. "Really? The idea of chanting was your last straw?"

"That's--"

My phone gives a shrill ring, interrupting Nate.

"Saved by the bell," I mutter, shoving the phone to my ear. "Hello."

"Detective, it's Verda," He says, making me pause. "I'm calling about the blood sample you found at the warehouse."

Nate takes a wide step forwards, a sudden tension making his whole body stiff. "Blood?"

"Yeah," I reply, my brows raised in surprise that he can hear the conversation so clearly through the phone. "I had a run-in with some strangers up at a potential murder site. One of them was injured, so I managed to collect a blood sample.

I frown at Nate's reaction; the color drains from his face and he swallows hard. "Are you alright, Agent?" I ask.

He shakes his head and attempts to smile at me, but I can see it's masking his worry. "I'm fine."  _Why is a blood sample I collect making him so worried? Does he know who they are?_ A question, I decide, to ask another day.

I shake my head. "Keep going, Verda."

"Well, it's quite remarkable, but it seems to be similar--near on the same, in fact--to the strange blood in the victim."

My eyes widen. "What?"

"I don't know who this sample is from, Detective, but whoever they are should either be very ill or very dead..." He pauses. "Or undead."

"Great," I say with a groan, rubbing a hand over my face. "Now I have zombies strolling about town."

Nate splutters, coughing, and I can't help but notice he seems to be trying to cover an amused smile with his hand. I brush off the odd reaction, too confused by all of this to think on it further.

"At least it's something to maybe follow up," Verda suggests.

Any amusement in Nate drains quickly away. "Are you certain this is something you should be investigating further?" He asks. "I'm sure it's all just...coincidence."

_Nothing is ever coincidence when I'm involved. Ever._  "It's better than no lead at all, which is what I had before. Well, except the chanting you were so offended by," I reply.

Nate glances away. "Yes, of course; you're right."

I shake my head at his less-than-enthusiastic reply and return to the conversation with Verda. "Thank you. Let me know when you get anything else."

"Will do," The doctor replies. I end the call and slip my phone back in my pocket.

"Maybe we should discuss all of this back at the station?" Nate suggests. I give a nod. This day is starting to get too weird to handle.

* * *

**_Back in the Office_ **

Back in my office, Nate is kind enough to make us some drinks while we wait for the rest of his team to return. Finally, with the kettle fixed, I can have the caffeine my body needs. I gulp a mouthful of the hot liquid and sigh.

Then I notice Nate is sipping at a mug of milky tea. "Not a fan of coffee?" I ask.

He smiles, placing his cup on a coaster on my desk. "I like it; I just prefer tea." Nate purses his lips. "I'm sorry about what happened with Mrs. Hudders. We've worked as a small team for so long; it may take us some time to remember how to do things differently."

I nod in understanding, turning the conversation back to the case after being reminded of it. "Maybe it would be good to investigate the Farris Warehouse again," I say, voicing my thoughts aloud. I'm not exactly overly keen to return there after what happened last time, but at least now I can be more prepared.

Nate leans forward in his chair, resting his forearms on his thighs. "If you'd like, I can go with the rest of my team later."

"Are you sure?" I ask, leaning forwards a little. "I don't want to pawn my responsibilities off onto you."

He shakes his head at my concern. "Please, don't fret over that. It will be a good opportunity to acquaint ourselves with the area." He pauses. "...And also speak with my team about how to work with others."

I give a resigned sigh. "Alright." The niggles of anxiety that knotted my stomach settle somewhat. Might as well take advantage of having the extra people around for tasks like this.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" He asks, concern in his tone as his dark brown eyes settle on mine. "You did make your objection quite clear earlier about us going about town on our own."

"Yeah, it's fine." Working with a team wasn't exactly what I wanted for my first case, but seeing as we have to, hopefully he really will manage to talk some sense into his team. Then we can all just get on with the case.  _And stop measuring egos..._

"At least you asked rather than demanded. I only object to over-bearing, egotistical--oh, Adam, hello!" My voice cracks, and I almost spill my drink down my front in my haste to cut off my insult.

Nate looks over his shoulder to the doorway where the rest of the team are entering. "Any luck out and about?"

"It yielded little," Adam replies. I shift in my seat as his gaze flickers my way. "But I hear from Mason you had more luck."

"The detective and I have been speaking, and he suggests we check out one of the warehouses on the edge of town." Nate stands from his chair, moving closer to the group. "He had an incident there with some possible suspects."

Adam's gaze shoots to Nate so fast I'm surprised he doesn't topple over. "And he agreed?"

I roll my eyes, sinking further into my chair and keeping my comments to myself, even more so when I see Felix grinning in the corner.

"Come on," Nate says, his tone light. "We better get going before the sun sets." He glances back to me, giving an appreciative nod. "See you tomorrow, Detective. It was good working with you today." He offers a smile along with the nod.

I smile in return, leaning forwards in my chair a little. "It was good working with you too. See you tomorrow."

Adam gestures for the group to leave all heading out of my office at the same time.

I watch them leave the station; the exact moment they do, Tina pops her head around my door. "What was that?" She asks, her eyes shimmering.

I shift a couple of papers on my desk. "Nothing."

She shuffles into the room, her curls bouncing around her face as she comes to perch herself on the edge of my desk beside me. "Uh, I'm sorry, but four people who look like that in your office is not nothing."

"Okay, I get what you mean," I reply, glancing up at her in resignation. "It is going to be a bit distracting having them around..."

"A bit?" She scoffs, sliding down into the chair beside by desk. "I don't think I'll get any work done if they're coming in every day."

I roll my eyes but give a smile. "Well, we'll just have to try our hardest."  _Especially me, since they'll be in my office, alone, with me. Four absolutely gorgeous men, alone with me, in my office._

"Easier said than done." She spreads her hands out wide in front of her. "I mean, did you see them?"

"Yes, I saw them," I reply with a chuckle.  _Don't think I'll get much sleep if they stay on my mind, though._ Not that I really cared at the moment.

"At least that's a start I suppose," She says, pouting her lips. "When was the last time you even thought about spending some time on your love life?"

"I don't open up easily; you know that," I reply. Strange as that might sound with how friendly--and sometimes flirty--I am with people, but a certain ex of mine kinda ruined my ability to freely date anymore.

"I know." She stands from her place, smiling so genuinely it makes her eyes crinkle. "But still, you're a detective now, Virgil. You've reached  pretty high in your career. You're allowed to enjoy the rest of your life too, you know."

I purse my lips. Then I tap a few keys on the computer so that the monitor flashes to life, unsure how to respond to Tina.

"You're a strong, independent man," She continues, and I flicker my gaze over the top of my screen to meet hers. "You deserve a strong, independent person at your side." Another smile curves her lips. "And it wouldn't hurt if they were easy on the eyes, right?"

I finally crack out a grin. "Alright, I get your point! But this murder takes priority right now."

"Oh, that reminds me," She says, pausing on her way out. "I came in here to tell you I found out who the victim was."

A heaviness hits me like a brick to my chest. "Who was she?"

"Janet Greenland," Tina says, her browns shifting into sympathy. "Poor girl. She was an engineer. She was here looking for a place to rent, trying to get away from the crime of the big city. Kind of ironic, isn't it."

She turns and leaves, a somber air having fallen over my office at the news. I turn my focus back to my computer, hoping I might be able to figure out what to do next.


	5. Chapter 4

**_The Next Morning, At the Station_ **

What should have been a lovely early spring morning is dampened by a grey sky flecked with dark storm clouds; a mist of rain hangs in the air. The sun seems to be trying its best, but its morning rays barely make it past the barrier of cloud.

I shake myself off as I step inside the station, the moisture sinking into my coat.  _At least I don't have to wear a uniform anymore..._ That itchy material soaked up rain like a sponge.

Wearing what I like is certainly a major perk of the job, though I usually like to wear something mostly subdued. A simple hoodie, t-shirt, and jeans are enough for me. My job isn't to stand out; it's to blend in.

I yank off my coat and head to my office, being the first one in as usual.

Or at least, so I thought. I pause in the doorway to find Unit Bravo already gathered inside, strewn about the room in the same positions they'd taken up the day before.

Nate smiles in greeting as I enter. "Good morning, Detective."

I shake off the damp from my coat before hanging it up. "The weather would suggest otherwise. Not exactly the glorious day the weatherman promised."

"I guess you're not much of a morning person, Detective?" Felix asks with a chuckle. "Don't worry; neither are we." Nate lets out a heavy sigh in the chair next to him.  _I don't mind mornings, I just don't get enough sleep as it is._ Being an insomniac has its drawbacks.

Ignoring the banter, I move further into my office and take a seat. "Did you find anything at the warehouse?"

Nate shifts forward in his seat. "Well, we thought--"

"No," Adam's strong reply cuts through whatever Nate had been about to say. Nate's head whips around to face his leader, a frown creasing his dark brows together.

I watch the odd, silent exchange pass between the pair. Uncertainty tugs at me; the question was not exactly hard to answer. My attention flickers to Felix, noticing the gleeful smile quivering at the corners of his lips as he watches his colleagues glare at each other.

I only return my focus to them when Nate turns away from Adam and sinks deeper into his seat. "As Adam said, we didn't find anything."

 _There's definitely something not right here..._ I fold my arms across my chest, flickering my gaze between the two before dropping it to the papers on my desk.  _Something was definitely weird about that exchange..._ Whether it was just egos clashing or something more, I'm not sure.

I purse my lips, pushing the thought to the back of my mind. For now, I have to keep focused on the case...which will be more difficult if they're hiding things.

"Well, we still need to find the actual murder site. She definitely wasn't killed where she was found," I say. "Was it the same with the other murders he's committed?"

"Yes," Nate replies, this time not interrupted by his brooding leader. Adam is once more staring out the window.

I let out a long breath, looking down at my notepad; it is painfully empty of clues or notes. "Were any of the victims from the same locations?"

A throaty, slightly condescending laugh erupts from Mason. "Their locations meant nothing." Once again, his words are softened by an accent I can't place. Maybe hearing it more would help me narrow it down, but the idea of striking up a conversation with the man now glaring at me through a wall of smoke...

 _Smartass._ I lean forward on my desk, holding his glare without wavering. He drags in a breath of smoke and lets it out in a curling stream, holding my stare without a flinch.

Our focus is pulled back to the room as Nate speaks again.

"The previous victims came from all over," Nate explains.

"That's an understatement," Felix replies. "We're talking worldwide." He spreads his arms out in emphasis.

I frown at the revelation. "Someone who goes to that extreme must have a reason. Nobody would travel that much just to kill random people."

"A good point, Detective," Nate comments before throwing a stare at Adam, who completely ignores it.

Felix suddenly gives a chuckle, seeming to be lost in thought. "At least it's meant we've gotten to go to some interesting places in search of him. Remember Alaska?"

He chortles. "Mason did not do well in the cold." The comment receives a grumble from Mason in the corner. "But there weren't as many humans in Alaska, so that helped cheer him up a little."

"Not many humans?" I ask, cocking my head to one side at the strange word choice.  _There must be something more if he's using a third person word like that. And well...Mason being kinda anti-social doesn't surprise me; the fact he doesn't do well in the cold does though._ The man was built quite well, so it's a little strange to think he couldn't handle the cold well.

A heavy quiet descends over the room, broken only by Felix letting out a strained chuckle. "Oh, you know, not many people, heh..." He throws a sheepish look at Adam, whose features are furrowed into a tight knot.  _Yeah, they're hiding something from me._ Nothing I could really do about it until they trusted me enough to talk about it.

A knock from the door makes us all look up to find Tina standing in the doorway. A worried frown lines her face, her shoulders hunched. My thoughts of the conversation are quickly pushed away by concern.

"Hey, Virgil, can I talk to you for a moment?" She asks, clutching the door to keep her balance.  _Not good._

I give a nod. Something is obviously wrong.

Standing from my place, I glance back over the group before moving out of the office and shutting the door.

* * *

**_With Tina, at the Front Desk_ **

I follow Tina to the front desk, where she leans heavily against the counter and runs her fingers through her curled hair. We're alone, since Douglas usually doesn't arrive until, well, whenever he feels like it.

"Kate Hayes rang the station this morning, worried for Garret," Tina explains, biting at her bottom lip.

"Her son?" I ask in surprise. Kate, being the only dentist in town, is usually run off her feet. To help her out, Garret has often spent his time after school at the station until she can collect him. Usually, it's Tina who keeps him company--helping him with his homework or teaching him the ropes. From the little I have interacted with him, he seems sensible and nice enough.

"He didn't come home last night. What if something happened..?" Tina flicks her worried gaze up to meet mine, her voice choking in her throat. "With a psycho running around town--"

I place my hands on her arms and meet her eyes. "We'll find him, Tina. Don't worry."

She attempts a smile, but it doesn't really work. "I just hate the idea of him out there alone with a killer on the loose."

"I know; so do I."

This time she does brighten a little. "Thank you, Virgil."

We both flinch as the phone on the desk gives a shrill ring.

Tina lets out a sudden relieved breath at the sound. "Oh, it must be Kate. She said she'd ring back as soon as Garret turned up." She reaches for the phone. I turn away, thankful the situation is resolved before it became something much worse.

Heading back to my office, I shake my head staring at the ground.  _With what's happened, it's no wonder this town is on high alert over every small thing._

My thoughts come to an abrupt halt as someone comes storming out of the doorway of my office and crashes into me. We both stumble back, and it feels more like I collided with a brick wall than a person.

Regaining my balance, I glance over, finding Adam staring at me in genuine surprise.

He quickly straightens himself out. "I apologize. I wasn't paying attention."

"Wow," I blurt out, brushing down my hoodie from the impact. "We should put you in the armory as a battering ram." I give a light chuckle, thought it seems to fall short against his unamused frown.

Silence soon falls once again. I shift slightly beneath the awkwardness of it.

Adam turns to avoid my gaze, his focus shifting to look over the station. I arch a brow when his nose wrinkles, as though smelling something unpleasant.  _He couldn't be anymore obvious._

"You really don't want to be here, do you?" It's a moment before I realize I spoke the question aloud.

He's quick to reply. "We're here now, so it's more a question of dealing with it, rather than liking it."

"You know," I begin, half-smiling, "it's not so bad here. Maybe it'll grow on you."

"Like a tumor, you mean?"

I frown at his reply though when I glance at him, I find he's actually smiling. Suddenly I can't tell whether he's mocking me or joking with me.  _Does he have a sense of humor though?_

The thought is ripped from my mind when there's a sudden clatter at the front desk. "Uh, Virgil?" Tina calls. I turn.

Her normally rosy skin has paled to a ghostly white, the phone gripped tightly in her hand. "There's been another murder."  _Oh God. Please, don't let it be him..._


	6. Chapter 5

**_In the Centre of Town_ **

We all travel to the crime scene in the centre of town separately. Whatever government vehicle Unit Bravo uses must have sped through the streets, because they arrive well before me and I didn't exactly drive slow.

I park my car near the police barrier--there are thankfully no crowds this time--and move down the alley to join the others, who are already looking over the victim. The street is so narrow, the walls looming so high, that even the remnants of morning sun can't pierce through the deep shadow.

"Poor kid," Felix says, shaking his head.

I shove my hands into my coat pockets, my throat constricting slightly at the sight. It's a male teenager crumpled in a help at the edge of the dank alleyway, his face hidden.

Tina, having left before us to secure the scene, approaches. "It's..." She takes a shaky breath. "It's Garret Hayes."

I take a confident step towards her. "We'll find who did this." I say, barely concealing my rage. Whoever this murder is better pray I don't encounter them in an alleyway at night; I don't take kindly to someone killing the people I care about, even more so when they take the life of a child.

"I know," She says, biting her bottom lip as it trembles slightly. "Just tell me if I can do anything."

I give a nod and her shoulders sag in relief. "What details do we have?"

She glances at her notepad. "Nothing much. A road cleaner spotted him early this morning." She takes a shuddering breath. "The forensic team won't be here for a while, since they have to travel back from the city." And with one last look at Garret, she turns slowly and slouches away.

Felix follows Tina's retreat with a cocked eyebrow. "Quiet the woman, that one."

Nate swipes him round the back of the head. "You're standing at a murder scene. Show some respect." Felix wasn't wrong though; Tina's a lot stronger than most men give her credit for.

"We haven't had a murder in Wayhaven for decades, and now we have two?" I ask the question more to myself than the others.  _...Let's get this over with quickly._ Garret doesn't need to be out like this for any longer than he needs to be.

"We better get on. The crowds will be here before you know it. I don't want to be fending off their questions while trying to find out anything from the scene."

"I agree, Detective." Adam says, to which everyone in the alley turns to stare in amazement at him. He simply brushes off the sudden attention.

"Okay then..." Felix says, a small chuckle in his words.

"Are we sure it's the same killer?" Adam asks.

"Yeah, it's definitely him," Mason says.

I twist around to look at him. "What? How can you know that?"

His lips sharpen into a long smirk, reminding me too much of a wolf to be comfortable. I shift on the spot to avoid taking an instinctive step back. "A hunch?" He offers.  _Yeah right. You all probably know exactly who we're suppose to be looking for too._

I ignore the statement, all of us once again returning our attention to the boy folded into one corner. His black coat is bunched up around his neck.

"The killer much have used the collar of his coat to drag him down here," I suggest. The fabric is pulled out of shape.

I crouch down to study it closer, my nose wrinkling at the putrid smell of trash from the overflowing bins only a few feet away. Using a pen, I lean forwards to push the collar out of the way a little, the material stiff against my attempts.

"Wait, Detective, don't--"

But Nate's warning comes too late. The coat shifts position. The boy's head suddenly lolls to one side, his neck exposed.

The skin is completely shredded, any of it remaining stained dark with blood. Muscles and tissue have been ripped away from bone, protruding from the jagged gash in a sickening display.

The mangled sight of it takes a moment to process before I can react.  _Did a human really do that?_

I grimace at the horrific sight, curling my hand over my mouth. "That's just all kinds of wrong..." I mutter, attempting to look away but knowing the memory is burned into my mind.

I glance over at the rest of the group. None of them seem as surprised at this discovery as I am. "Have you seen this before?" I ask, taking a deep breath to maintain my composure.

"Not exactly, but--" Nate begins, to which Adam throws him a sharp stare. Nate thins his lips for a moment. "No."  _God, what is with him?_ Adam seems to want to keep Nate quiet for some strange reason.

I glance back at the victim, paying closer attention to the wound. "I don't know of any weapon that could have done that." Whoever killed him hadn't just slit the boy's throat, they'd torn it open.

 _Things like this just don't happen in Wayhaven!_ I ball my fists in my pockets, stepping away from the body and giving a defeated sigh.  _And then there's the hard part..._

"Virgil," Tina calls, all of us spinning around to face her. "The forensics team is here, and..." She trails off. "His mother still needs to be notified."

My stomach sinks at the realization. "Right."

Tina heads to where a couple of pristinely-clean silver vans have drawn up. Several technicians in white suits step out. The bustle of activity from the techs shatters the somber silence that had fallen over the scene.

"Well..." I purse my lips. "I suppose I better go deliver the news. I'll meet you guys back at the station." I turn to head away, my steps heavy, resisting the idea of what I have to do next.

"You're not going alone." Adam calls, making me pause mid-step.

I round on him, my teeth gritted. "Excuse me?"

"One of us is going with you," He says, his stern voice only making my annoyance grow. "The rest of us have to check in with Agent Sanders."

"'Cause that tone's really gonna make him open to suggestions," Felix says. He slaps Adam on the back, who throws him a stern glare. "Nice going."  _...Heh, I think I'm really gonna like Felix._ However...

I turn back to look over the group, realizing going solo might not be the best idea. The killer murdered Garret, so he may go after Kate too. In that situation, having backup would be a major help.

"I suppose some support would be sensible," I reply after a long pause.

It helps to try and remember this is about finding a murderer, not personal feelings--but that's a hard task in this moment.

"You know what?" I begin, stepping closer and folding my arms. "Seeing as you're so concerned about me, Adam, you come with me."

He stares at me for a long moment. It's hard not to notice the way the others shift uncomfortable in the silence.

"Fine," He says finally, making my brows shoot up in surprise. He turns to the others. "Go see Agent Sanders and report in. We'll meet up afterwards."

"Where do you want to meet?" Nate asks, his question directed at me--which, I note, makes Adam's jaw tense.

"By the time we're done, Verda will probably have some results for us. We can meet back at the station," I say.

Adam gives a stiff nod. With that decided, the group splits in separate directions: Adam and I going one way and the others heading further down the alley.

* * *

**_At the Edge of Town_ **

The victim's mother, Kate Hayes, lives in one of the small groups of houses at the edge of town. Ringed by a barrier of forest in one direction and a manicured community green on the other, it's rather idyllic.

Yet the normally bright-white houses appear grey in the shadow of the day, heavy clouds obscuring whatever sun there might be. The trees, usually plump with lush green foliage, are bare and stark, clawing at the houses as they shiver in the chill breeze. Even the usual cheerful bird song has gone silent.

Pulling up outside of Kate's house, I stare at the blue-painted door for a moment.  _I've delivered news like this before, but...I really didn't want to have to do this again._

I grip the steering wheel tighter. Delivering news like this never gets easier, even with experience. And those times it was for natural deaths, not murder victims.

"You knew her and her son?" Adam asks, breaking the silence--a silence which has hung heavy between us the whole ride over.

I turn my gaze to him. "Yeah, a bit."

"Then, I'm truly sorry for what you have to do." His voice is gentle and, I observe, full of understanding.  _Looks like he can feel emotions after all._ Being as...aloof as he was, I was a little afraid he might have been a robot. Glad to know he's not.

I give a grateful nod. "Better get on with it then."

As we pour ourselves out of the small confines of the car, Adam instantly pulls out a pair of thin-framed aviator sunglasses and puts them on. Even in the small motions, his movements seem rigid and tense. I can't help but wonder if he's ever at ease.

Pulling myself out of the momentary thought, I begin walking up to the front path to the door. The sky-blue paint is not as inviting in that moment as it should be.

The door swings open before I even have a chance to knock.

Kate stands in the doorway, her porcelain skin dulled and dark circles shadowing beneath her eyes. She is normally petite, but today she looks minuscule, her body sagging and her long, red hair dripping over her drooped shoulders.

"Detective Sanders?" She croaks.

"Hello, Kate," I reply, keeping my voice steady.

"What are you doing...here..?" He voice trails off, her eyes widening in horrified realization. "That murder this morning...no." She shakes her head, the simple word hanging heavy in the air. "No! I don't believe it. No!"

She cries out, wailing, sinking to the floor and screaming out her sudden grief. The hollow sound of it is enough to wrench against even the coldest heart.  _...God fucking damn it, why did this fucking psychopath have to take away her son?_

I fall to my knees beside the hunched woman, wrapping my arms around her in an attempt to offer even the slightest bit of comfort. "Oh, Kate, I'm so sorry." She doesn't reply, instead clinging to me and sobbing into my shoulder.

"We should move her inside," Adam says, apparently disapproving of my action.

I frown deeply at him, shaking my head. He glances away, a flash of guilt lining his face.

We manage to help Kate into the living room. She slumps onto the sofa, staring blankly at the coffee table.

The cream walls feel constricting; the happy smiles of Garret in the photos dotted about the room seem to stare at me in accusation. I fidget on the plush sofa, trying to breathe in shallow breaths to avoid the disinfectant smell emanating from her home dental practice on the floor above.

Adam stands near the window, staring out at the street beyond as though checking for anyone who might have followed. I'm beginning to get the feeling that working for whatever agency they work for has made him more than a little paranoid.

A hushed quiet falls over us all, Kate's choked sob drawing my attention back to the room and the task ahead. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you some questions," I say, pulling my notepad from my belt.

Kate nods, wrapping her shaking fingers around each other. "I...understand."

I shift forward a little. "Where was Garret supposed to be last night?"

"I think..." She frowns, taking a ragged breath. "He was supposed to be staying with a friend. Studying." Her lips suddenly tremble, whatever reply gone in heavy thought. "He was such a good boy. You know that, Virgil." Her words are lost in a wave of tears once again.

I glance over my shoulder at Adam and lower my voice. "I don't think we'll be able to get much out of her."

He stares past me to Kate, the grieving mother still sobbing into a half-shredded tissue. Adam thins his lips, then strides to stand behind the sofa Kate is on. He places his hand on her shoulder, stooping down slightly to meet her eye.

"Steady yourself, Kate," He says in a voice so calm I'm not surprised when Kate's crying relaxes. "You need to answer the questions the detective asks."

Then, the oddest thing happens: Kate's whole demeanor shifts. Instead of the broken woman from a moment before, she sits straighter. There's an understanding smile on her pale face, now returning to some color.

It's as though someone waved a magic wand and took the grief from her.  _What the hell did he do?_ It's wasn't normal for someone's behavior to shift so rapidly.

She flicks her gaze to meet mine. "I'm sorry, of course. Please, ask your questions."

I balk at the sudden change, eventually blinking out of my surprise to continue the questioning.

Gripping my pen tighter, I look at her. "Had Garret been acting out of character at all lately?"

"No, not at all," She replies matter-of-factly.

"Do you know if he was having trouble with anyone?" I ask, staring down at the page of my notepad in preparation.

"No, of course not," She says, her tone steady. "He got on with everyone."

"That's all we need to know for now, Kate," I say, snapping my pad shut.

"Well, if you're certain?" She asks, her brow creased in confusion.

I try not to be perturbed by her sudden calmness, realizing everyone deals with grief differently. Still...it's kind of freaky.

I stand from my place, clipping my pad back on my belt. "Alright, get in touch with us whenever you need to, or if you remember something. I'll send Tina around later to check on you. She might have more questions then."

"Thank you," She replies.

Adam looks at me, gives a nod, then moves away from Kate, his hand sliding away from her shoulder. As soon as he steps a few feet away from the sofa, I frown, watching as Kate curls back in on herself. Her eyes mist over and a tear falls free; whatever moment of clear thought she'd had is apparently drowned by grief once again.

We leave the house, and I swallow hard as I shut the door on the echoes of Kate's pained cries.

Adam and I stand together for a moment, both staring in through the window to watch Kate curl onto the sofa and sob into her hands. I glance over at Adam, his jaw tight and a heavy pang of sympathy evident in his strained frown. But when he notices my attention, the expression quickly shifts into an unreadable one.

He turns to head back to the car, reaching out for the door handle of the passenger side. I speed my steps to catch up.  _...Guess he just can't express his emotions well._ It's the only thought in my head for a moment after what I just saw. Maybe, because he's the leader of Unit Bravo, Adam forces himself to contain his emotions in order to make unbiased calls? It makes some sense.

"You know, what you did in there was really impressive," I say.

Adam pauses, looking at me over the top of the car. "Excuse me?"

I gesture back to the house. "The way you got Kate to calm down."

His shoulder stiffen until they're nearly round his ears. "You noticed?"

"It was hard not to," I reply, crossing my arms.  _It is so strange for him to hear a compliment? And what's making him so tense?_

His brow quirks up. "You're more perceptive than I expected." I purse my lips, unsure whether to be complimented or offended by that statement. "Yet it's merely training we're given at the Agency, nothing more." Then he tugs on the door handle and slides inside the car without saying anything else.

I get into the car after him, wondering if the drive back will be just as awkward as the drive here. The engine splutters to life as I turn the key, and I can't help but glance over at Adam for a moment.

As I look over at him, I'm surprised to find he's already looking at me. My breath catches as our gazes meet and, for a long while, neither of us seems to be able to look away.

The car croaks a little, breaking the quiet, and we both flick our attention away from each other. I grasp the steering wheel, feeling a sudden warmth seep over my skin.

"Let's get back to the station." My voice comes out a little more cracked than I meant it to, but thankfully, he doesn't seem to notice.

"The others will be waiting," He replies quickly, turning to stare back out of the car window and shoving his sunglasses back on. I swear I could feel his eyes snap onto me one last time before we reached the station.

* * *

**_Back at the Police Station_ **

Thankful to get away from the heavy thoughts of the scene with Kate, we head back to the station to meet the others. When we arrive, we find Nate waiting inside the foyer of the station.

"Did it go okay?" He asks as soon as we push open the glass doors.

Adam shrugs. "As well as something of that nature could have gone."

Nate offers a sympathetic frown to us both before we move further into the station and towards the basement lab.

* * *

**_Down in the Basement_ **

Garret Hayes lays spread on the cold, stark metal table, his already pale skin made white beneath the intense light hanging above. A simple cloth covers him. Only his head and shoulders show, along with the wound savagely torn across his neck.

Now that it's fully exposed, I have a hard time not recoiling from the macabre sight, though I manage to steady myself. Images of the boy's heartbroken mother flash into my mind with the force of a tidal wave.

The memories flood over me and I stumble a little, taking a ragged breath to keep the emotion from overwhelming me.  _This shouldn't have happened to him._

Verda swings around on his seat at the other end of the room, standing and coming towards us.

He eyes both of the agents flanking me, his brows raised in surprise. "I'd heard from Tina you were working with your mother's team, Detective."

"Doctor Soloman Verda, this is Commanding Agent Adam du Mortain and Agent Nathaniel Sewell." I introduce them, figuring the professional approach is probably best. Though I do smirk mentally at the fact that I got both of their names right first time.

Nate stretches out a hand in greeting, which Verda instantly takes. "Nice to meet you, Dr. Verda."

"Likewise," Verda replies, a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth. He then turns to Adam, who stiffens at the offered hand, apparently as hesitant to shake Verda's hand as he'd been to take mine. Eventually, he does.

"Have you found anything yet?" I ask, turning to focus back on the case.

Verda glances at the boy, his face pinching into sympathy for a moment, then turns to retrieve a test tube. A long cotton swab rests inside, the bottom flecked with red.

"I haven't had time to do an autopsy yet, but I did find blood under his fingernails. Seems he managed to take away a bit of his killer."

Adam frowns, lifting the sheet a little to examine the victim's arms laying limply on the table. "I see no defensive marks."

"Although it's difficult to imagine the boy let the killer rip his throat out, Agent du Mortain is correct. It doesn't look like Garret put up much of a fight."

Verda gives a solemn nod, continuing, "I don't think the blood beneath his fingernails was defensive, more accidental. His fingertips have bruising on them, as though he grabbed onto something very tightly."

"His killer," I answer, to which Verda give a shrug.

"That would be my guess." He swings around, placing down the test tube and picking up some glass slides. A distilled blob of blood stains each surface. "What's even more interesting, though is that--once again--the blood matches what you found at the warehouse and what was discovered in the first victim."

I sigh, not sure I can handle the amount of weirdness being piled onto this case.

Verda places down the slides, turning back to face us. "If it is the same killer, then this is a much different method. The first victim died due to an attempted blood transfusion, as far as I can tell."

"How would a blood transfusion kill her?" I ask, standing back a little. "Don't people have blood transfusions all the time?"

"Yes and no," Verda replies, placing a hand on his chin. "Normal blood transfusions in hospital patients are fine, but my guess is someone attempted to completely drain all of her blood out of her body and replace it with something else."

From the grimace on his face, I assume that's a bad thing.

"The pain would have been"--the pathologist frowns, sympathy heavy on his brow--"excruciating. In the end, her organs would have shut down, and death would have followed. But there is no evidence of that with this victim."

"Could the killer have tied him down, like with the first victim?"

"I don't think so. There's no evidence of it, not even marks of hand prints."

I bring a hand to my chin, thinking. Both victims had the same blood found on them, the first died of an attempted blood transfusion, while the second died most likely from a combination of shock and blood loss after his throat was torn open.  _The killer clearly wanted the blood of the first victim, but not the second if their actions are any indication._ Add in the fact that the second victim didn't put up a fight and the strange blood, and things were starting to point in a direction I wasn't exactly ready to commit to pursuing yet.

I run a hand over my neck, staring at the victim with a frown. "There has to be something we're missing. All we have to go on is the blood, which so far is getting us nowhere." My focus falls on the two agents standing either side of me, both stiff and unmoving. "You're both been very quiet. Anything to add?"

Nate seems startled out his thoughts, glancing between me and Verda. "Was there saliva around the wound?"

Verda's brows shoot up. "Yes. Good guess."

Adam's lips tighten into a thin line. "Yes. It was." He says the words through gritted teeth, apparently disapproving of Nate's odd question.

"I guess you were thinking it might be an animal attack. I was thinking the same thing, yet..." Verda's words trail off. He seems to be lost in thought.

"Animals attack out of fear or need," He says finally. "They don't intentionally inflict damage like this. It's as though whatever killed him made one wound to kill him, then ripped the throat out in spite. Plus, the lack of blood is strange for an animal attack."

Placing a hand on his chin, he purses his full lips. "We had a case like this in the city once. Some occult-obsessed group decided consuming human blood would be a good idea, so they killed people in order to try it out."

"How did that end?" Nate asks, passing a steady glance over to Adam.

"Most died of disease from one of their victims. It's how we eventually caught them." The reply seems to make the two agents relax a little.

Verda suddenly whips around, grabbing up a sheet of paper. "But getting back to our case, there's also the fact the boy's dopamine levels were well above normal range."

"Dopamine?" Adam asks.

"It's a neurotransmitter," I reply. "It tells our brain we'll be rewarded--that whatever we are thinking of doing will bring pleasure."

The room falls silent, and I glance up to find them all staring at me in surprise.

"That's right," Verda replies. I can't help but give a little smile of triumph at the pride in his tone, and also the shocked faces of the agents. "It's often thought of as a happy hormone."

I stare down at Garret once again. "Do you think he was on drugs, or someone gave him drugs, for the dopamine to be that high?"

"Not that I can tell," Verda replies, placing down the paper and sighing heavily. "I won't be able to confirm, or know much of anything else until I get the test results back."

"When will that be?" Nate asks, his shoulders relaxing a little.

I glance at him. "A while." Verda stands from his place and moves back to his desk. "The hospital doesn't exactly like the fact it has to help our department, so they can take a while. I also heard they recently got a new blood technician, so I imagine things will take even longer."

The cold of the room is really beginning to seep through my clothes, and I wrap my arms around myself to stave off the chill. "I doubt there's much else we can learn until Verda's done the autopsy," I say, to which the doctor gives a nod of confirmation.

I take a step away from the table. "Thanks for your help, Verda."

"Any time, Detective," He replies, offering a smile with his words.

After that, I head out of the room, once again following by the two very quiet agents of either side of me. We head up the stairs to the warmer station above, and I can't help thinking how eerily it feels like passing from the Underworld back into the land of the living.

The station is pretty empty, as usual; only Douglas is here, sitting slouched in his chair at the front desk, eating. The sweet smell of muffins permeates the entire building. I try to ignore the pangs of hunger that tighten my stomach, only now realizing I haven't eaten since this morning.

The group of us wind our way between the few open cubicles and towards my office, where I can already see Felix and Mason inside.

I take one step into the room before my attention snaps to the corner of my desk. It's covered in silver duct tape, though I can see chucks of wood splintered away, jutting out from under the tape.

I stare at the damaged corner of the desk for a while longer. "Is that somebody's attempt at modern art?" I ask, gesturing to it. "Because it kinda sucks."

Felix splutters a laugh, turning to look over my shoulder at Adam.

"I apologize, Detective," The team leader says from behind, making me spin around to face him. "It was my fault. I knocked into it by accident."

"You knocked into it and managed to take a corner off?" My arms drop back to my sides in surprise, and I can't help but wonder how big of a bruise he must have. Or where it even is.

His lips twitch for a moment. "I will pay for repairs." He moves past me, obviously putting an end to that conversation.

I shake my head, then move around my injured desk and take my seat. The familiarity of it is comforting, and my shoulders unknot a little as I lean back.

The room falls quiet. I stare at my desk in thought. So much had happened so quickly, I've barely had a chance to keep on top of this case at all.

"So, what happens now?" Mason asks from his place, still partly hidden by the filing cabinet.

I'm amazed when they all turn to look at me for a response. How to proceed in this case has apparently fallen to me.  _I don't want to think that it's really something like this, but..._

"I think maybe it would be worth looking into the occult angle Verda spoke of," I say, leaning forwards and looking over the gathered group. "It might be a long shot, but you never know."

Adam folds his arms. "If that's really what you think will help the case at this point." There's a tinge of sarcasm to his words, but I ignore it, already thinking of the task ahead.

* * *

**_Two Days Later_ **

The investigation into the occult In Wayhaven produces a disturbing amount of information, but unfortunately, nothing pertains to the case.

A couple of days of work produces little more than what we already knew before.

Tina has more luck than us, having interviewed the residents of the alley Garret Hayes was killed in. Apparently one of the residents had heard some odd noise--chanting, almost.

Remembering what Mrs. Hudders had said about hearing the same thing, I get Tina to continue that line of investigation. The rest of us continue focusing on the victims.

The experience had been interesting, getting to watch Unit Bravo work properly for the first time. The cohesiveness with which they work together is astounding, and I don't think I've even seen better--not even back at the academy.

At times, I look up and watch as Adam and Nate discuss a possible idea around the circular wooden table we just about managed to fit into my office to use as a communal work desk. The two barely talk in full sentences, each seeming to know what the other is going to say without actually speaking it.

Felix tends to stick outside of the group, fetching things or suggesting outlandish ideas which--in all fairness--the others do consider before dismissing. Even Mason joins in, clarifying certain things about evidence or checking files for confirmation about an idea.

For a long while, I keep mostly to myself, unsure of how to integrate into the obviously tight-knit, well-organized team. But today, I find myself drawn into the conversation.

Flashing my gaze over my computer monitor, I let out a heavy sigh to see my email inbox still stark and empty. Nate's gaze moves onto me, apparently hearing my disappointment. "Something wrong, Detective?"

"I was hoping for the blood test results by now," I reply, leaning back and pushing away the file on my desk. I've reread it about fifty times already.

"They're still not here?" Felix asks with a genuine frown of confusion. "We should have gotten the Agency to do it."

"How quickly do you normally get results back?" I ask, pursing my lips.

"Within the hour, for most of them," Adam replies nonchalantly, not looking up from the papers on the desk.

I almost fall out of my chair. An hour?! I barely get replies from Tina within an hour, and she's only in the next room!

I shake off the surprise, leaning forward on my desk. "Then we really should be using your resources on this case. We might catch this guy faster."

Adam shakes his head. "We don't have full jurisdiction over this case. Not yet, anyway. The evidence should be processed here." He then just continues to rustle through the papers on the desk.

The thought of pushing the conversation enters my mind, but the set frown on his face makes me think better of it.

"It is strange adjusting to how small town procedures work. The Agency is focused on what agents need, so it's unusual for us to have to wait for evidence or test results. But I'm sure your hospital is doing the best they can." Nate smiles, the encouraging words genuine.  _I think that's the best joke about the hospital I've ever heard._

I glance away, wondering if now is the best time to tell them that the hospital is about as hospitable as a stubborn rhino. It was once the mayor's committee renovation project, but it was left behind when his focus switched to the police station after Douglas joined.

The mayor's attention (and, more importantly, funds) stated piling onto the station instead--an insult the hospital never lets us forget. Small town politics at its finest.

Thankfully, I don't have to decide whether to tell them as Nate calls to me again. "Detective?"

I glance up, a brow arched. "Yeah?"

"Mind if we get your opinion on something?" He asks, Adam shifting uneasily beside him. "It seems we're at an impasse, neither of us agreeing with the other." He give a light chuckle, the first cheerful sound in the office for the past couple of days.

Smiling, I push myself out of my chair to head towards them. "Of course. I'd be more than happy to help."

"Thank you," Nate replies, a smile on his lips.

I barely make the two steps to the table before a knock raps at the door. We all glance at it. Tina peers around the door frame, throwing a polite smile at the group.

"Uh, Virgil," She says, her voice a little tense. "The mayor's on the phone for you."  _Ah shit._

Not exactly something I'd been hoping to hear. I take a deep breath and give a nod.

"Sorry, go on without me," I say to the group before following Tina out into the station and towards the front desk.

The afternoon sun blares unobstructed through the glass window that make up the walls of the station. I blink against the intense light.  _Afternoon? I didn't even realize._ Apparently it's easy to lose track of time when you're desperate to find any new evidence in a pile full of useless information. I also think being in a room full of attractive men has something else to do with it too.

Tina holds the phone out towards me, throwing me a sympathetic smile as she does. Dealing with the mayor is never exactly easy. All I can do is hope he's been golfing and it's put him in a good mood.  _Or had one of those liquid lunches he enjoys so much._

At least it's Douglas's day off. Don't think I could handle speaking to the mayor with his son listening to every word.

I grasp the receiver and push it up to my ear.

"Detective Sanders speaking." I say, keeping my tone professional as possible.

"Are you really a detective, Sanders?" He snarls down the phone in return. "I don't believe a real detective would let the town work itself into such a frenzy of panic! I've barely been able to fend off the phone calls!"

I frown, staring at the phone for a moment before replacing it back to my ear. "Panic? People didn't seem too disturbed the past few days as we've been--"

"Well, maybe that was before that damn reporter decided to make a mockery of your investigation!" I swear I feel a vein pulse on my forehead at the mere mention of my ex.

My hand clamps around the phone tighter. "...What?"

Tina, apparently hearing every delightful word the mayor had spoken through the phone, slides the local (and only) newspaper in town, the  _Wayhaven Press_ , along the desk in from of me.

Bold black words sit stark against the white paper on the front page. My stomach sinks as I read.

"Police Searching for Occult Links to Murders!" The headline reads. "Will they get anywhere following this outlandish theory? True murderer remains at large while they search for ghoulish killer! Read more inside." The byline says, "Written by Robert Marks."

 _That goddamn, thieving, backstabbing, good for nothing motherfucker!_ I grip the paper, the edges crumpling in my balls fist. "Ah crap..." The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

"At least you understand the seriousness of this," The mayor replies, his voice still sharp and loud enough to make me yank the receiver away from my ear.

Balancing the phone beneath my chin, I punch the paper into a ball and chuck it into the bin. "Look, I'll deal with Bobby--"  _In more ways than one._

"I will be dealing with that so-called reporter!" He interrupts. "You will be out patrolling tonight and showing the town you're on top of this."

"I don't think me patrolling is going to help this investigation along."

"Well, too bad, Detective." He snorts like a bull about to charge. "Rebecca--I mean Agent Sanders--said you were up for this case. And if you're not, I will be passing it into her more capable hands." I grit my teeth at his words. I don't appreciate him using my mother as a threat against me, even more so when she so willingly gave me her team to help me solve this case.

I give a nod. "Of course, Mayor." He's right about one thing: I should get out there to let the town know I'm doing my best to protect them. What little anger is left in me fades at that thought.

"Thank you, Detective," He replies, calmed somewhat from the moment before. "I expect a copy of your report tomorrow afternoon." We put down the phone at the same time, the conversation ending with civility, at least.

I slouch forward on the counter and let out a groan. "How did Bobby even get the information?"

"I saw Doug chatting to him yesterday," Tina replies.

I stiffen, my eyes wide. "Are you kidding me? The mayor just chewed me out over something his own son let happen?"

She shrugs, a small smile playing on her pink lips. "I'm guessing that's why he wanted to deal with Bobby himself.

I groan again.

"I'd offer to patrol with you tonight, like old times," Tina says, shifting back onto the tall stool behind the front desk with little issue. "But I'm stuck on desk duty all night."

"It's alright," I reply, forcing myself up and dragging my fingers over my hair. "I think I'll probably have enough backup."

We both turn to stare into my office, where Unit Bravo are still deep in investigation. If I've got to forgo sleep to go on patrol, then they certainly aren't getting out of it.

Tina grins. "Now you're just trying to make me jealous." I shake my head and step away.

She places a hand on mine to make me pause. "You'll find the killer, don't worry. Everyone in the station has completely faith in you."

I bat away her hand and give a light laugh. "Stop that. You'll make me blush."

"It's the truth and you know it," She replies, giving a genuine smile before turning back to the front desk. "Now, go have your fun wandering around town. With four hot agents. In the dark."

I roll my eyes, though I keep my smile as I move back towards my office.

As I step inside my office, the entire team shifts their focus to me, and I hesitate under the sudden attention.

"What did the mayor want?" Adam asks.

"To let me know that I'll be going on patrol tonight," I reply, slumping into my chair. The strain of the day presses on my shoulders, an ache settling down my back, but I force myself forwards.

"Patrol?" Felix asks, leaning forwards and resting his hands on my desk. "Like walking? Around town?"

I arch a brow. "That's usually what a patrol involves, yes."

Adam steps forward to stand imposingly in front of my desk, Felix shrinking away. "You can't--" He begins.

"We'll join you, Detective," Nate interrupts quickly, laying a hand on Adam's shoulder. "Five set of eyes are going to be better than one."

Adam rolls his lips together before spinning away and moving to stare out of the window.

"At least I won't be the only on sleep deprived tomorrow," I reply with a chuckle.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Adam mutters so quietly I barely catch it.

"A lot of good patrol's gonna do," Mason scoffs from his corner, the words framed by curls of cigarette smoke.

"Oh, I don't know," Felix says to Mason, slouching back into the chair. "It's been a while since I've been on a hunt."

Mason pulls the cigarette out between tight lips. "But who will be hunting who?"

And with that not-at-all-terrifying question hanging around us, we all decided to meet up later that evening in the centre of two for the patrol.


	7. Chapter 6

**_Later That Day_ **

The hours whittle away slowly. The sun casts its final rays over the rooftops before sinking down over the horizon to be replaced with cold darkness.

When my phone's alarm buzzes at eight, I jolt myself awake from dozing.  _Not a great start for the evening ahead._ Even less so since my insomnia has been kicking my ass and I've gotten less sleep than normal the last few days.

I let out a breath of relief; at least I don't have to wait any longer. I'd spent most of the afternoon reading over things I already knew and writing down clues I've written a hundred times already, just waiting for the evening to arrive.

Standing, I glance about my office, heavily shadowed by the evening's gloom. It's strange for it to be so empty. So quiet.

_Guess I've kind of gotten used to having Unit Bravo around._

Shaking the thought away, I gather up my keys, gun, and badge, then head out of the office.

The shrill ring of my cell phone against the quiet makes me jump. I lift the phone from my pocket, Bobby's name emblazoned on the screen. The mayor did warn me off dealing with him, but...

Bobby's the one contacting me, so technically, it's not my fault. I purse my lips at the thought of how well that excuse would go over with the mayor, but I click the answer button anyway.

"Hello there, handsome," He says the moment the call connects.

I shudder at the old pet name he used to call me, memories of long evenings in collage dredged up from the back of my mind for a moment. "What do you want, Bobby?"

"I just had the most interesting conversation with the mayor." The tense sound of his voice makes me half-smile, wondering just how much 'interesting' translates into 'threatening.' "Seems he didn't appreciate my story, especially considering the source of the information."

I lean against the door frame of my office. "The story was a bit tabloid, wasn't it?"

"That's what people want, Virgil," He replies. "And I'm nothing if not a giver. Something you've experienced for yourself..."

 _Yes, a giver of being a pain in my ass._ I roll my eyes, pushing myself back up. "Why are you calling me?" "I was just calling to assure you I won't be using your front desk boy for information any longer." The news makes my shoulders unknot a little. "But I suppose that just means I'll have to find a new source, one the mayor can't hush up so easily."

He pauses, and I hear the click of a pen being tapped against paper. "I'll be seeing you around, Virgil." He purrs my name, and I grimace. I end the call as he does.

It's been a long while since I've had a full conversation with Bobby, and I can't say it's ever exactly an enjoyable experience. Still, at least it's over.

With Bobby's voice still rattling around my head, I wave a goodbye to Tina, shiver as I shove open the chill glass front door, and head into the dark of town.

* * *

**_In the Centre of Town_ **

The journey to the Square is never a long one, but tonight it's exceptionally quick--probably because this time there's no other traffic, or even people. I park outside Haley's Bakery and rattle the door handle of my car a little until it finally gives. Then I step out into the relatively well-lit, pretty street.

It smells cold, the chill hitting my nose and coating my throat. I cough as the cold reaches my chest, bundling my coat up a little tighter. I really hope spring arrives soon.

Footsteps make me spin around, and I let out a small sigh to see Unit Bravo emerge from a dark side street. They approach me.

"Is it always this quiet?" Felix asks, glancing about the Square with an almost bored expression. Classy shop fronts lie dark and dormant--no sigh of life, not even from the apartments above.

"It's a quiet town," I reply, stepping towards them. "Though it being this quiet is pretty unusual."

"The murders probably frightened them enough to keep them indoors," Nate says. Not exactly a confidence-boosting statement, seeing as we're the only ones out here.

The antique clock above the town hall clicks eight thirty, and I smile at the group. "Sorry you guys have to freeze out here with me."

"Better than being bored in the warm," Felix states, rocking back on his heels with a smile.

"Here," Adam says, stepping closer, holding out a hand. A tiny black box sits on top of his palm, no bigger than the top of my thumb. "It's an Agency radio." My brows quirk up as I look at the size of the thing. "We'll stick together as much as possible, but just in case..."

I shrug, figuring it's a sensible plan. Taking the radio, I clip it to the collar of my jacket. "How does it work?"

"Just press it with your finger," Nate explains.

After giving it a test and finding just how sensitive a piece of equipment it is, there's no more procrastinating. We head out. I can't help but feel a boost in confidence with the four agents flanking me as we walk.

* * *

**_Two Hours into the Patrol_ **

"I can't remember the last time I just enjoyed a walk," Nate says suddenly, drawing in a deep breath and interrupting the tense silence that had hung around us for the past couple of hours. Nerves are on edge--every shadow catching our attention and every movement making us pause.

"This isn't supposed to be a stroll, Nate," Adam counters, though I notice a flicker of a smile on the team leader's face as he looks at his companion.

Nate shrugs. "You have to take the small opportunities when you can."

"Ugh," Mason groans, rolling his eyes.

"Your positivity is making Mason nauseous again, Natey," Felix adds, his chuckle reverberating off the shops lining one side of the street.

"What about you, Detective?" Nate asks, ignoring Felix's teasing.

His question make me flick my head to him, finding the group suddenly studying me. "What about me?"

"Do you miss patrolling?" He clarifies. "Or were you glad to give up these duties when you became detective?"

"I miss being proactive in things." I purse my lips, staring back down the street. "Being a detective is all about dealing with crimes after it's already happened. As an officer, I had some ability to at least prevent it."

"You still prevent it," Nate replies, catching my attention once again. "You stop murderers from killing again. You stop thieves from stealing again. They may have already committed some crimes, but you stop future ones."

I blink in thought, realizing he's got a point. I smile at him in gratitude of the new perspective, a gesture which he returns.

We continue on down the street, conversation coming easier than it had when we'd first started out.

* * *

**_Even Later_ **

Eleven o'clock brings with it a deeper darkness and a still-deeper chill. The cold seeps through the pockets of my coat, biting at my fingers and settling with an ache on my shoulders. My walk has turned into a stomp just to try and keep the feeling in my toes.

Midnight is our agreed stopping point. I glance up at the large clock tower, protruding into the night sky so high it can be seen from anywhere in the centre of town.  _Only fifty-seven minutes to go._

The agents had split off a few minutes before, checking out a couple of longer side streets before we have to meet up again. They'd made sure I'd checked my radio was still working at least ten times before going, but I doubt I'll need it.

I'm beginning to half-hope something will jump out of the shadows, just to relieve my boredom. Even I could have told the mayor the killer was unlikely to return to the same place where he has already killed.  _Come on already..._

Forty-one minutes left. Counting down isn't really helping, but at least it's something to do. Silence stretches as long as the night's shadow, and I let out a breath just to break the quiet monotony.

Turning the corner of the block, my heart leaps into my throat as a figure emerges from the dark alleyway beside me. It settles again when I recognize the shape of...  _Goddamn it, Adam._

"Adam!" I blurt, trying to relax the adrenaline that had been injected into my system from the fright.

He glances over me for a moment before looking away. "I apologize. I didn't mean to startle you."

"Have you found anything?" I ask. "Seen anyone?"

He shakes his head. "The others will be reporting in with us soon. We can wait until then."

Normally it would be such a simple thing to do: wait--except for the heavy, awkward silence which immediately settles over us. Adam keeps his cautiously stoic expression turned away from me.

After a while, I find there's an odd sense of calm that comes from standing beside him. It makes my tension ease and sends a flutter through my stomach. Maybe it's his towering, solid build, or possibly the tight-lipped frown I doubt anyone would bother trying to mess with, or the security that radiates off him that wants to cover me like a velvet blanket.

The moonlight from above strikes against his features, highlighting every handsome line of his face and outlining the broad shoulders beneath his thick coat.

I bite my lip and stare at the man. Pig-headed he may be, but he's certainly difficult to look away from.  _I wonder what it would be like to see him actually smile, or to be held in his arms..._

I quickly shake my head to clear my thoughts, my eyes widening in surprise at my own reaction to him. I shuffle a small step away.

"Are you alright?" He asks, noticing the movement.  _Did he know that I was staring at him? Was he not bother at all by it?_

I nod, turning away slightly to hide the head radiating up my neck.

Silence holds us again until he suddenly breaks it with an unexpected question. "Tell me, Detective, how did someone so...young...become a detective so quickly?"

When he says 'young,' I can tell he actually means 'inexperienced,' something which makes me thin my lips. "Detective Reele was retiring." I explain. "The police captain and the mayor decided I was best to replace her."

I leave out the part where the promotion was rushed through. I received no extra training or testing except shadowing Reele for a few days before she left, which mostly involved fetching her coffee.

Adam stops staring down the street, instead turning to look at me. "I'm surprised. You are far more competent than most detectives I've met."

My eyes widen at the compliment, unsure for a moment if I actually heard him correctly. Even he seems surprised at his own words, as though the statement was a stray thought not to be said aloud.

I blink out of my stunned silence then clear my throat. "Well, uh..." I let out a breath to help with the shiver coursing up my spine. "Thanks."

He stares at me for a moment before glancing away with an uncertain frown. "Let's find the others. They're taking too long."

"Sounds good," I reply, both of us moving to march down the street.

Adam suddenly jerks backwards a step, twisting around to stare into the darkness beyond. Though I can barely see through the shadow, I snap my focus around to stare too. "What is it?"

"I don't know..." He says, his words trailing off.

I swallow hard.  _What did he notice?_

There's no movement or sound, yet Adam still glares into the night. It's unnerving, to say the least, watching his body tense and his brow furrow deeply.

I flinch as he suddenly whips around, staring at me with the same narrowed glare he'd been using with the darkness. His gaze flashes over me in quick inspection, and I open my moth to speak when he suddenly gets there first.

"You must be cold," He snaps. And without waiting for a response, he shrugs off his thick coat, swinging it out then wrapping it around me.

He doesn't let go, instead grasping the lapels of the dark grey woolen coat, my body embraced inside of it. The action is so sudden and strange that it takes a few moments to process.

I take a breath from the suddenness of the action and...  _Christ, he smells good._ His scent is faint on the thick coat, but it's strong enough for me to smell and the only words I can find to describe it is intoxicating. It was a moment later that I realized that when Adam put his coat around me that he also yanked me closer so only a few inches separated us now.

I could feel the tips of my ears turn red, my heart aflutter from just being this close to Adam in such an intimate position. I knew that all four of them were attractive, but I didn't think I would find Adam as appealing as I do. I barely notice that Adam's gripping the lapels of his coat a little tighter, almost like he doesn't want to let go.

"There you guys are!" Felix's voice cuts through the heated heaviness that had pressed against Adam and I, and he takes a wide step back away from me.

I notice that Adam is gritting his teeth as Felix's gaze flickers between me, Adam, and the coat still draped over my shoulders.

"What's going on here then?" A long smile breaks across the agent's face. "You, uh, just 'shooting' the breeze with the detective, Adam?"

I see that Adam almost snarls at the words that left Felix's mouth, but I have no idea why, still processing what the hell just happened a moment before.

"Did you come across anyone?" Adam asks, clearly wanting Felix to focus back to the task at hand.

Felix shakes his head. "We thought we might have had someone." He shoots Adam a glance with a clear meaning behind it that I didn't know. "But it turned out to be nothing."

I glance between Felix and Adam, letting out a sigh and running a hand over my hair. Adam's coat weighs against my shoulders, and I realize it has started to feel comfortable. "Let's call it a night," I say. "We should try to get a few hours of sleep before starting all over again tomorrow."

"Alright," Felix says, though his strange, amused smile remains fixed on Adam. "Looking forward to it, Detective."

I step towards Adam, pulling the garment from around me.

"I..uh," I stutter, frowning at my own sudden inability to form words. "Thanks for this."

Adam takes it, wrapping it back around himself. "You're welcome." He meets my gaze for only a moment, soon withdrawing it to focus on Felix. It's long enough, however, for my heart to flutter again.

"Well, goodnight." I turn quickly, scanning the street and finding my car glinting dully beneath the street lamp where I had parked.

"Guess we should get going too," I hear Felix say.

"Of course," Adam replies.

But when I glance over my shoulder, I find him staring after me for a moment more before disappearing into the night with Felix.

* * *

I decided to make myself a glass of warm milk to reheat my chilled body before going to bed, grabbing one of the few books I still haven't read yet and settling into my bed.

But as I try to read the pages of what should have been an excellent novel, my thoughts kept being dragged back to Adam and the moment we shared. The ways his icy green eyes stared at me in an uncertain fascination, how I could feel the heat coming off his body even through his thick, warm coat.

And then I recall his lingering gaze on me before we parted ways. I toss the book onto the nightstand, quickly giving up actually reading because all I could think about was Adam. Remembering how the moonlight highlighted all of his handsome features, how calm and safe and relaxed I felt standing next to him.

 _...Goddamn it. I think I'm in love with him._ And from his uncertainty, I can guess that he has feelings for me too. But, there's no way he and I could ever be in a relationship...right? 


	8. Chapter 7

**_The Next Morning_ **

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The alarm shrieks from my clock, the sound echoing like a scream inside my sleep deprived head. I switch off the alarm, turning onto my back and blinking myself fully awake. It only takes a few moments. Sliding out of bed, I stretch out the few kinks in my body before striding towards the bathroom to get ready for the day.

It's not unusual for me to run off only three or four hours of sleep, thanks to the insomnia I've had since I was 14, but that still doesn't make me dislike been up so fucking early any less.

While continuing to try and ready myself for the day, tugging on my usual outfit of jeans and hoodie, I begin gathering up my things.

The morning sun blazes in through the square windows of my living room, the golden light seeping around the rest of my one-bedroom apartment. The building may be boring, flat, and make of unappealing redbrick, but at least it gets a good amount of light.

I glance about the room. Having lived here for years, I've kind of gotten used to how it looks.

The apartment hasn't changed since I started renting it: the same cream walls dotted with a couple of generic paintings, the same brown carpet, the same bland curtains. Not exactly homey, but it's somewhere to sleep and eat, and that's enough for me.

 _To be fair, I'm not really here enough to do anything with it._ Shrugging off the thought, I shove my things into my bag, sling it onto my shoulder, and head out of the apartment.

* * *

**_At the Station_ **

Shuffling into the station, I glance up and almost stumble to a stop to see Douglas sitting at the front desk, in shock to find him here before me. It's hard to remember the last time he arrived before ten.

"Actually, the detective has just walked in," He says into the phone, smiling at me. "Did you want to speak to him, Captain?" Suddenly I'm extremely glad I decided not to lie in. "Oh, okay, I'll let him know."

Douglas places the phone down, turning to look at me as I wait. "He says the mayor was an idiot to send you out last night, but even though you didn't find anything, it paid off. Apparently people were happy to see you out and about."

"At least it wasn't a total waste then..." I mutter, shrugging off my jacket and heading to my office.

Inside the office, the unit is already at work--something I've grown used to walking in on the past few days. Felix glanced up at me, eyes widening. "Wow, did you manage to get any sleep, or is this your usual look?"

It's true; I do look more than a little sleep deprived. When I'd managed to catch a glimpse of myself in my car's rear view mirror, I'd balked at my reflection: shoulders sagged, skin duller than usual.

Shadowed circles had been sitting beneath my grey eyes. Not the most motivating image to see in the mirror that morning.

"This is how I look," I reply, gesturing down at myself. "Deal with it."

He grins wide. "I didn't say you still don't look hot as hell, Detective."  _Where is he finding this energy, and where can I get some?_ I sometimes hate my insomnia the morning after I did patrol back when I was an officer.

I let out a sigh, too tired for banter this morning.

The fact that they all look bright-eyed and ready to go doesn't help the issue.  _Surely they only got as much sleep as I did?_

"What's on the agenda for today, Detective?" Nate asks.

A voice sounds from the front of the station in response, echoing into my office. "Is Detective Sanders here?" We all glance around to see Kate Kayes's pale form hunched by the front desk.

"Looks like my first task is talking to Garret's mother," I reply. "Maybe she'll have some new information." And with that small hope, I head back out of my office towards Kate, bracing myself for the conversation ahead.

* * *

**_At the Front Desk_ **

Kate's gaze flashes to me as I draw near, her eyes bloodshot and heavy-lidded. She grips the strap of her bag, her knuckles white.

"Is there any news?" She asks, her voice catching.

I shake my head. "I thought you might be here with new information."

"No, I just..." She swallows hard, glancing between me and Douglas. Douglas shifts, visibly uncomfortable around the grieving woman. "I wondered if you've made any progress on the case? I don't want him to be forgotten."

"He would never be forgotten," I reply, taking a step forward to offer what little comfort I can. "This case, and your son's murder, are my only priorities."

She attempts a smile. "Thank you, Virgil. I just...I don't know what to do with myself any more." The smile cracks, her face knotting into a frown, and her breath chokes.

Douglas throws me a wide-eyed stare of terrified uncertainty at the woman's sudden wailing, almost tumbling off his chair as she stumbles and leans on the front desk. Her grief is far too heavy for her to stay standing.

Thankfully, Tina comes in just as the woman breaks down. "Kate, what are you doing here?" Tina asks.

Kate manages to raise her head. "I came...to ask about the case..." The words are barely audible between the crying.

Tina lets out a heavy sigh, then glances at me with a nod. "Come on, Kate, let's get you something to drink." She offers a hand, which Kate takes. The pair of them shuffle away towards the kitchen area.

"Bloody hell!" Douglas exclaims as soon as she's gone. "I'm glad you gotta deal with that stuff and not me."

I shake my head at the boy before turning on my heel and heading back to my office. The headache throbbing at my temples serves as a remnant of the conversation.

Stepping into my office, I pause mid-step; an odd tension is crackling in the air. Adam stands at the window as usual, but his shoulders are tensed, a frown on his brow and his fists clenched. Felix and Mason are also unusually quiet, none of them looking at each other.

It's then I notice a member missing from the unit. "Where's Nate?"

"Licking his wounds, probably," Felix replies, though not with the usual smile.

I arch a brow at the odd reply, half growing used to the enigmatic answers he often spouts. "Tina's dealing with Kate," I say, trying to dispel the odd silence. "She came asking about the case's progress."

Adam shakes his head. "We'd make more progress on it if you didn't keep running off to speak to those people." There's a sharp brashness to his tone that's stronger than usual.

"Whoa..." I reply, holding up my hands in surrender. "Calm down. I was only letting you know what happened."

"You wouldn't need to tell me if you stopped trying to parade through this case on your own." He folds his arms, but some of the fight seems to have dropped from him.

"Parade through this case on my own?" I repeat his words slowly, thinning my lips. "I've been stuck in this office with you guys for days trying to work together!"

"I can barely call what we're doing 'working together.'" He suddenly glances away, frowning in what I'm surprised to see seems like regret.

Anger still flares within me at the comment. "Fine. Then do it your way, and I'll do it mine." I march back out of the office, slamming the door behind me.  _I need to get away from them for a minute._

* * *

**_Down in the Lab_ **

The bleakness of the pathologist's lab is plenty warmer than Adam had been during that spat. I just don't understand why he's so hostile at times.  _And here I was thinking we were actually starting to work better together..._

"Ugh." I groan, rubbing my index and thumb over the bridge of my nose and then smacking open the lab doors. Verda jumps at my sudden entrance, spinning to face me with a brow raised. "Bad day?"

"Well," I begin, letting out a heavy sigh. "I certainly don't think it can get any worse."

But from the sudden wince on Verda's face, I'm guessing it's going to be. "I was actually hoping to ask a favor," He explains, standing from his place and moving over towards me.

"What's the favor?"

"It's the hospital," He says with a shrug. "They're still ignoring my urgent requests, and my work has been stalled for days because of it."

"Okay, a bit of a delay is one thing, but this is starting to get ridiculous," I reply. "I'll head over there now and see if I can't get things moving."

Verda sags in relief. "Thanks, Detective. I really appreciate it."

I give a nod. I'm thankful to have a task that I can actually complete, rather than standing around my office staring at the same lack of evidence I've been looking over for days.

* * *

**_On the Way to the Hospital_ **

So, I probably should have told one of the team where I was going before I'd gotten halfway to the hospital, but the fight with Adam had continued to nag at me. Still, I'll have to work with them again at some point. But after just earning my detective's position, I'm not eager to give up my first case to anyone. Especially not someone like Adam.

I glance down at my cell phone, the silver phone rocking slightly on the passenger seat of my car as I drive.  _...I really should call Adam._

Succumbing to my more professional side, I pull my car over in order to call Adam. I really should let someone in the unit know, and I suppose it should be the team leader.

After scrolling through the contacts list, I hit his name and the phone rings. They all have Agency phones, having given their numbers to me a couple of days before.

Thankfully, it clicks into a rather generic voicemail message.

"Adam, it's Virgil," I begin, wiping down my jeans as I speak. "Just letting you know I'm heading over to the hospital to try and hurry them along with the test results. I'll drop back at the station when I'm done and check in then."  _Though I doubt you'll even care..._ I keep that thought to myself.

I pull the phone away, click it off, and throw it back on the passenger seat. Then I begin my journey towards the hospital once again, now with a small smile of satisfaction.

It's a little way to the hospital at the edge of town, and I grip the steering wheel to guide me through the tree-lined, open road. Sun strikes the windscreen; I have to blink past the intensity of it, the brightness cutting through my heavy thoughts of the team and the case.

Finally, the hospital creeps into view, the flat, wide building visible through the wall of stark trees. The hospital is by far the newest building in Wayhaven, built on the remnants of the first-ever warehouse constructed in the town.

When Wayhaven's committee (made up of the town's richest residents, lead by the illustrious mayor) had taken it upon themselves to renovate it, most of the town had happily agreed. Well, until they realized 'renovate' meant tearing down the old building and constructing the bland, cream-brick building with no character that now stands in its place.

Still, if any building in town has to be rebuilt as new, then a hospital seems the best choice. Being taken in for surgery should be a lot less worrying in a state-of-the-art facility, rather than some old, crumbling wreck that 'maintains a feel of the past.'

I navigate the bend around the building into the car park, pulling into one of the visitors' spaces. It's hard to swallow down the feeling of seeing my little scratched-up vehicle squeezed between two gleaming sports cars.

The automatic doors slide open as I approach, and I'm greeted with the open space of the reception area. I have to say I'm always impressed when I step inside; I never realized there was such an array of pallid greys and beiges to decorate with.

The waiting area lies completely empty, which isn't exactly unusual. Everyone in town goes to see Doctor Turner first, and only at his insistence do they reluctantly visit the hospital--even in emergencies.

I head to the front desk, where the receptionist slumps in his chair. His gaunt face, drooping eyes, and sour expression are not exactly the most welcoming thing to be greeted with.

"I'm Detective Sanders." I swipe my jacket aside, revealing my badge. "I'm here about the blood test results for the station."

The man immediately stiffens, a crinkle on his nose as he eyes the badge. His wan skin reddens. "Our resources are valuable, Detective. The results of the living take priority over the dead."

"The lives being taken are just as valuable," I reply in a genuine tone.

The receptionist fidgets in his seat, then lets out a sigh. "I suppose I can't deny that."  _No, you can't, you butt._

He raises his arm and points a bony finger down the hallway to one side. "Take the first right, then the third door on the left. The blood technician's office is there, but I can't guarantee he'll have what you want. He's new and...a bit strange."

"I'll take that into consideration. Thanks." I say with a nod before heading off to follow the directions.

The corridors are hard to navigate; each grey-flecked wall merges into the next, and the headache-inducing fluorescent lighting masks any signs of natural light that manages to find its way through the low windows that line one wall. Thankfully, it's not far to the door I need. A nearby sign points it out as the blood technician's office.

The name plate hanging askew on the door announces the lab of Dr. Gale Leeway.

I give a sharp knock, waiting for a response which comes quickly. Then I push open the door.

Inside, the room matches the rest of the hospital with its boring decor and color palette. The small lab is chock-full with counters, each one weighed down by machines that whir and beep. Test tubes and beakers dot any available spaces left. Though I barely see much at all; the intense stench of disinfectant almost makes my eyes water.

Stepping further inside, I stare at the tall figure at the end of the room. Their back is to me, their shoulders draped in a crisp white coat. They don't seem to be aware that I'm here.  _Heh, they kinda remind me of Verda._ He was always quick to get absorb in his work.

I take a half-step forwards, raising my hand. "Excuse me?"

The doctor swings around, his face masked by enormous goggles. He yanks them off, the elastic pinging against his gloved hands. "Yes?"

"I'm Detective Sanders," I explain. I don't exactly want to get off on the wrong foot with this guy if he's the one who can rush the test results through. "I'm here about the blood test results the station's pathologist requested."

He purses already thin lips. A shadow of stubble lines his jaw, dark against the paleness of his cream skin. The black curls streaked with grey that surround his face bob as he nods; his face is lined with age, but still handsome. "Ah yes, I remember. The staff told me there was no priority on those and to keep them on hold until later, so I hadn't sent them out yet."

 _I bet they did..._ I shrug away the thought.

"It really had become somewhat of a priority, Dr. Leeway," I reply, letting genuine urgency into my voice.

"Leeway?" He frowns, then glances at the name plate on the open door. "Oh, they still haven't changed that over." He gives a chuckle.

"Then it's Doctor..?"

He springs into action when he realizes I'm waiting for an introduction. "Yes, of course, sorry." He offers his hand out after rolling off his glove, a smile wide on his face. "My name is Dr. Ethan Murphy."

I place my hand in his and shake it.


	9. Chapter 8

I smile as politely as possible at the doctor, withdrawing my hand and placing it back at my side. "So, about those results..?"

"Oh, of course." He smiles in understanding, but it's a tight expression. One that makes me suppress a strange shudder. "Are the results in relation to the recent murders?"  _Oh no, not one of these guys._ The ones that want to know something that the public doesn't.

"I'm afraid I can't discuss that," I say, trying to keep my tone steady.

He suddenly takes a wide step forward, closing the gap between us. Although he's a slight man, it's hard to deny the power behind his presence. I swallow down the odd reaction, standing my ground.

"You can tell me," He says. "What you say in this room won't leave it."

I frown. "I still can't discuss it."

Dr. Murphy snatches out, grabbing my hand in both of his. I instinctually make to yank it back, but he grips it with surprising strength.

His cold thumb rubs over my wrist. "Why don't you relax?"

A prickle of fear crawls over my skin as I stare into the man's eyes, which--although framed with a few fine wrinkles--hold an unnerving amount of strength to them.

"I would tell you if I could, doctor," I reply, placing my other hand on his. "But I'm afraid there are rules."

The doctor's face contorts into confusion before he stares down at his hands like they're broken tools, his grip tightening slightly on mine. Hopefully he's realizing just how creepy he is acting. But when he flicks his gaze back up to meet mine, his eyes shine with sudden excitement and a grim smile sits on his lips.

I snap my hands back at his expression.

"I'll just get those results for you, Detective," He says, turning and fishing through a pile of folders, each an inch thick with printouts. The soles of his shoes squeak against the linoleum floor as he shuffles from desk to desk. I grit my teeth to bear the noise, coupled with the endless whirring drone of the machines all about the room.

After a few minutes, the doctor grasps a file and tugs it from a mountain of others. "Ah, here we are." He spins to face me, then stumbles forward with a gasp.

On instinct, I spring into action, dipping forward to save him from colliding with the centre row of counters. His weight bashes into me like a toppling column, and I slam back into the table behind. My hands slap down on the surface to take the brunt of the fall.

"Agh!" Pain lashes over my hand, and I draw it to my chest with a hiss of pain. I can already feel the warm slickness of blood trickling from the cut without even looking at it. I'd managed to smash a beaker beneath my palm on impact with the counter top, a glass shard slicing across my skin.

"Oh my!" The doctor stutters, his gaze snapping to my injured hand. "I'm so sorry, Detective. Here, let me..." He whips out a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and makes to press it against my hand.

"I can deal with it myself," I say, yanking the tissue from his advancing grasp. I didn't mean to sound rude, but from what had happened moments earlier, something told me it wasn't a good idea for him to be tending to my injury.

His gaze never leaves my injured hand, his eyes wide as he swallows hard. "Of course."

Holding back a breath, I press the handkerchief against the wound, gaining a little relief at the pressure.

I hold out my uninjured hand. "The results."

Dr. Murphy blinks out of his staring and shakes his head. "Yes, yes, here." He slaps the weighty file into my hand.

"Thanks." I tuck the folder under my arm, my other hand clutched around the handkerchief. It seems to have stemmed the bleeding.

When I turn to leave, Murphy's shoes squeak against the floor again. "Can I ask where I might find you? Just in case I get anything new on those results."

I hold back a groan, turn on the spot, and just about manage to wiggle a card out from my jacket pocket. "This is my name--also, the address and phone number of the station. I'm usually there if you need to get hold of me."

He flips the card over in his hands, a long smile on his lips. "Thank you."

Turning once more, I finally manage to leave the lab, shutting the door firmly behind me and letting out a long breath.

Now I understand why Verda always rings the hospital and never comes in person. I shake my head, pain still pulsing through my hand.

_I certainly don't want to be meeting him again..._ The man doesn't exactly ooze charm or professionalism.

Time to get back to the office and hope the results turned up something that was worth going through all of that. As I get back in my car, I quickly tie the handkerchief around my wounded hand, not wanting to chance any blood getting on anything inside of my car, and then drive back to the station.


	10. Chapter 9

**_At the Station_ **

When I arrive back at the station, it's far later than I had expected. The afternoon sun has lost its warmth, the bright rays already starting to dip below the horizon of trees.

Chucking my coat and things inside, I'm half-surprised to find my office empty. Unit Bravo have obviously already headed home for the day. With a shrug, I head towards the basement, knowing Verda will be keen for the results.

* * *

**_Down in the Basement_ **

Pushing open the doors, I step inside the bleak lab. A shudder runs through me at the reminder of what just happened at the hospital.

Verda sits with his back to me, hunched over his desk and staring with full concentration through a microscope. Apparently not even the sound of the doors can distract him from his work.

I smile at the sight. He's always been a hard worker, right from the moment he stepped inside the station after transferring in from the city a few months ago. The man had barely gotten through introductions before he was marching towards his new lab to handle the backlog.

It was obvious he was probably the most intelligent guy in the station, and usually that also comes with a big ego. But after investigating him a little further, I found out just what a nice guy he actually is, with barely any ego at all. As much as he deserves one with what he can do!

It's strange to think back on a time when he wasn't around. My smile widens as I shake the memory away.

With the results gripped in my hands, I move towards the pathologist. He's still huddled over the microscope.

I step forwards, slapping the paper down on the desk beside him. "I come bearing gifts."

His focus shifts to the papers. "Excellent!" He then swings around to face me, blinking rapidly. "Sorry, I've been staring down that microscope too long. The world's gone fuzzy."

I give a chuckle.

But his attention doesn't remind on the papers long as he catches sight of my badly handkerchief-bandaged hand.

"What happened?" He throws down the file, steeping closer and reaching out to examine my injury. Thankfully, the bleeding stopped some time ago.

I let him tug away the handkerchief gently. "The idiot blood tech at the hospital tripped and fell onto me. I managed to cut myself to avoid falling over completely."

Verda frowns. "It looks worse than it is." He glances up with a warm smile. "Come on, I'll clean it up and wrap it for you."

I return the smile, giving a nod of gratitude and following him over to the first aid kit on the other side of the room. Whatever treatment he can offer will probably be much better than my attempt at bandaging it.

* * *

**_Some Time Later, in the Office_ **

A few hours later, I lean back in my chair and let out a long sigh, folding my hands behind my head. After stretching out my aching limbs--gained from hours of sitting in a half-dilapidated office chair--I reach to take a sip of my drink...only to find stale dregs meeting my lips.

I grimace, slamming the cup back down.

The glare of my monitor is the only thing lighting the small space of my office. I glance about, trying to adjust my eyes to the darkness; I didn't notice exactly when evening had fallen.

A knock brings me out of my introspection; the click of the light switch being turned on catches my ears.

Wincing against the sudden flash of artificial light, I manage to see Tina stepping into the room with a bright smile. "You're working late," She says, coming to perch on the edge of my desk.

"It's not like it's unusual for me to be here late," I reply. I can't tell you how many times I've fallen asleep at my desk when my body finally decided I should get some proper sleep, usually waking up with my jacket or a blanket draped around my shoulders.

"True," She says with a shrug. "At least it meant I caught you before you left."

I raise a brow, waiting for her to continue.

She half-smiles. "I have something that might just confuse the case even further."

I sigh. "As if this case could get any more confusing."

"The chanting you asked me to look into--which, by the way, I thought was a pretty strange line of inquiry to follow--has turned something up."

The news has me slumping back in my chair. "What is it?"

"Well, apparently people have been hearing odd chanting all over Wayhaven, not only in the centre of town." She rubs her fingers over her chin. "It doesn't seem to be just drunken singing or weird talking either, but proper, full-on, horror-movie kind of chanting."

It's hard not to chuckle at her melodramatic statement. "Has anyone heard what they've been saying in those chants?"

"No," Tina replies with a disappointed sigh. "But one lady phoned in and did say she thought she heard your name amongst it this afternoon."

I arch a brow. "Really?"

"I wouldn't read into that too much, though. You're kind of the talk around town anyway--what with being the one responsible to keep the town safe. So lots of people have been mentioning you."

"Well," I begin, pressing my fingers to my temples. "Nothing like the entire town relying on me to help with my stress levels."

I snap my eyes open from the growing headache as she places a hand on mine. "You're gonna do fine, Virgil. But that's enough of that talk!"

She springs up from her place on the desk and grins. "I suggest we finally go out for drinks to celebrate your promotion! Everything's been so hectic from the minute you got the job--you haven't even had a chance to sit back and enjoy it."

The idea is tempting, especially because she's right. My first day was welcomed with a gruesome murder rather than a chance to settle into my new role. Any opportunity I might have had to enjoy myself was thrown out of the window when this case started.

I swivel around in my chair to face her, a smile still gracing her lips.

"I suppose I could get a sense of the mood around town at the bar," I say, lost to the thought for a moment.

"Anything that gets you out of this office," She replies, tugging me from my chair.

With a smile, I stand up. I just about manage to grab my coat before we head out of the station and into the night-shadowed town.

* * *

**_At Laycott Bar and Grill_ **

Two hours later--under the tempting aroma of home-cooked food, the sound of rowdy patrons, and the slight tinge of stale beer...

I'm completely sober. I don't tend to drink anyway, or very rarely when I do.

Tina, on the other hand, is barely able to stay on her seat, leaning heavily on the round wooden table set between us. It's a wonder she can find space on the surface amongst the mountain of empty glasses piled in front of her.

"It's a shame you haven't had even one drink to help you forget about work for a bit," She calls. Her usually pink-tinted cheeks are blazing a bright red.

I don't reply, just shaking my head at her comment with a half-smile.

The heat of so many gathered people had me puffing out a breath. At least there's no alcohol coursing through me to add to the warmth. I swipe a hand over my forehead, then raise it to my hair.

I reach back and push my hair away from my face, some of the shortest strands flopping back in front of my eyes.

"Congratulations on making detective, Virgil!" Tina says suddenly, a little more serious than before. "You're going to do so much better than old Detective Reele, that's for sure. But I do miss hanging out with you every day on patrol. It's pretty boring strolling the same old streets by myself without to blabber with."

"Stop talking like that," I reply. "You'll have me tearing up."

"I'm already tearing up," She says, wiping a sleeve across her eyes, leaving a streak of mascara smeared over her cheek. "Why do things have to change?"

I give a warm smile, then gesture to the mascara. "You have a bit of..."

"Huh?"

I gesture to the make-up stain, to which she clicks her tongue in annoyance as she glances into a pocket mirror. She licks her thumb and begins rubbing it over the skin to remove the streak of black.

The bar suddenly falls quiet, a strange hush washing over the locals. Tina and I swing around to see what's caused the sudden muted atmosphere.

I can barely believe my eyes when I find the source--it's Unit Bravo, strolling through the doors of the bar.

"Oh nice," Tina says. "The fun's arrived!"

The four of them settle to a stop near the front of the bar, Adam's gaze finding mine through the crowd and gesturing at me with a nod.

"I better go talk to them," I reply, sliding from my stool and beginning to work my way through the labyrinth of slightly sozzled drinkers.

It's difficult to ignore the way my shoes stick to the carpet. I let out a breath of relief when I hit the much cleaner wooden floor in front of the bar where Unit Bravo is waiting for me.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, turning slightly away from the people at the bar who are trying to listen in.

A long silent moment passes, and I finally realize the reason they haven't answered is because each one of them has flicked their intense gaze to my neatly-bandaged hand.

"What happened?" Adam asks suddenly, seeming to struggle to pull his gaze up from the injury.

I open my mouth to respond, only for another voice to get there first.

"It's been a while since I've seen you guys...properly..." Tina says--well, tries to say. The words come out in one long string, and she grins before actually finishing the sentence. "Come join us--whoa!"

She topples forward, her foot catching behind the other. I move to help, but find Nate already beside her before I even manage to make one step forward. Tina grins up at him as he holds one arm around Tina's waist to keep her steady.

Adam stares over Tina for a moment before returning his focus to me with a sigh. "Were you planning on becoming that inebriated too?"

"I haven't touched a drop," I reply, folding my arms. "If you must know." It doesn't seem to make much difference to his expression.

"You could have told us you were going out," Felix says suddenly, stepping towards me. "I'd have found you sooner!"

"Whatever you guys are doing...I think I'll head home," Tina splutters. "I'm already regretting the hangover I'm going to have tomorrow." She attempts to take a step forward, only to stumble a little.

Nate once again keeps her steady. "I'm going to see her to a taxi."

I nod in gratitude, thinking about offering to do it myself. Then I see the bright smile on Tina's face at having Nate help her through the bar with an arm still around her.

"So," Felix says, grinning wide. "Who's gonna buy the first round?"

Adam lets out a small sigh, where as Mason only smiles at the question.

* * *

**_A Little While Later_ **

We spread out on the comfier sofa seat of a private booth in the bar--a prime position we acquired when the last group fled as soon as Mason began stalking towards them, beer bottle in hand.

It's a surprise to find the team actually settling into the casual atmosphere. Even Adam had relaxed somewhat now that the rest of the rowdy patrons are nothing more than a whispered buzz behind the cherry wood panel on the booth, though I notice his fingers grasp his wine glass a little harder than necessary.

"Do you guys go out together like this often?" I ask, sitting back further into the crinkled leather armchair.

"There's not exactly much chance for fun like this at the Agency," Felix replies, taking a gulp from his vibrantly colored alcopop. "We should get out more though." He says it as a stray thought, but still passes a hopeful gaze about the other team members.

Nate raises his glass tumbler, remnants of whisky swirling inside. "Actually, I agree. It's nice just being able to relax."

"I told you we should keep the detective around more often," Felix says, throwing a wink my way. "You wouldn't mind being out chaperone, would you?"

"It might actually be nice to get to know you guys," I reply, placing my elbows on the arms of the chair. "Out of a professional environment, I mean."

"Then it's settled," Felix replies. "How can such a request be denied, even by our illustrious leader?"

We all turn to look at Adam, who shakes his head and takes a large gulp of his deep red wine.

"Come on, Adam," Nate mutters, and I try not to make it obvious I'm eavesdropping. "Even you have to admit it's nice for us to all be out together like this once in a while."

Adam's lips purse before--I'm amazed to see--he actually gives a small nod. A flicker of a half-smile appears on his lips.

I glance about the group again, noticing a few empty glasses starting to appear. "I'll get the next round." There are a couple of grateful nods, and then they begin chatting more freely amongst themselves.

As I push myself out of my seat to head towards the bar, I notice one of them following.

After putting in the order for drinks, I twist around as Adam comes to stand beside me at the bar.

"Come to help?" I ask.

He simply nods.

We stand together in the usual silence for a moment before his gaze flickers over the group. I watch as a flash of concern passes over the usually stoic expression of the team leader, followed by his lips thinning.

My eyeline follows his to where the rest of Unit Bravo is chatting and clicking their empty glasses together.

"You don't approve of their drinking?" The question comes out before I can stop it--a habit I find happens more often around him.

Adam's shoulders stiffen. "They should be focused on work, and this place is too loud and crowded for that to be achieved."

"Work is important," I begin, leaning on the bar. "But it doesn't always need to happen in an office."

"It would be much easier in an office," He replies, and I'm surprised to see the hint of a smile playing at his lips.

"True," I say. "Still, it's not impossible to do it elsewhere."

He chuckles, a sound rarely heard from the normally tense man. "Then we'll have to try our best with what we have."

His focus returns to the group, concern now replaced with real affection that softens his icy green eyes as he looks over at them.

"You really care about them, don't you?" I say the realization aloud, not really having associated such tenderness with the brash team leader.

His brows arch. "Of course I do."

"Here you are, Detective," The bartender interrupts, slapping down a selection of drinks.

"Thanks, Chen," I reply.

Reaching to grab them, I pause as Adam reaches out too, our fingers resting together on the same glass.

The touch sends a heat coursing over my skin, and I can't help but smile at it. Glancing up, I let the smile linger on Adam, whose breathing has suddenly become heavier than moments before.  _Okay, now's my time for a little revenge._

Gently, I trace my fingers a little further over his, my hand almost coming to rest fully over his.

He quickly snaps his hand back, fingers clenched into a palm. "Apologies, Detective," He says, the words a little hoarse. "I didn't realize you were going for that glass."

"No apologies needed," I reply, my smile widening to a smirk at the sudden fluster he's in.

He frowns and looks away. "Let's return to the others."

We both reach out again, Adam careful to avoid my hand, and we manage to collect up the glasses. A quiet descends over us. My gaze is drawn towards Adam, only to find his attention on me in return.

Back with the group, I reach down to hand out the drinks. It's not until I reach out with my injured hand that pain streaks up my arm from the wound. I'd half-forgotten how badly it's cut.

"You didn't tell us how you got that," Nate says, obviously noticing my wince of pain.

I shrug, settling back into the chair when Mason takes over the duty of handling out glasses.

"It was at the hospital," I begin. "The blood tech was...well, a bit weird, and he took forever just to hand over the results. The guy managed to fall over his own feet and bang into me. I cut myself on a smashed beaker, that's all."

"If you had let us know where you were going before actually leaving, we could have been there to help," Adam says, the words like that of a teacher disciplining a child.

"Yeah," Felix adds. "By the time we got there, you were already leaving."

My brows furrow, my lips tightening. "You followed me?"

The team shifts awkwardly in their seats except for Adam, who leans back and holds my stare. "It was necessary to ensure your safety."

I settle back in my seat and heave a sigh. "I kind of wish you all had been there, actually."

"Truly?" Adam asks in genuine surprise.

 _I knew you actually cared about me._ I can't help but give a soft chuckle at his response. "Yeah. The blood tech was pretty creepy. He took my hand and told me to relax. All because he wanted to know more about the case." A shudder catches me at the memory.

They all visibly stiffen in their seats, and I raise a brow at the tense, collective motion.

"What did you just say?" Nate asks, breath heavy.

"About the tech?" I repeat, to which he nods. "He wanted to know if the results were related to the murders--"

Mason stands from his place. "What specifically did he say when he took your hand?"

I frown, glancing down for a moment at the memory. It makes me shudder. "Uh, 'Why don't you relax?' I think."

Mason swings around, forcing his fingers roughly through his waves of dark hair. "Shit."  _Oh no._

"Why?" I ask, shifting forward.

Nate's glare flickers to Adam who thins his lips, jaw tight.  _They do fucking know something!_ Guess my instinct about that was right.

"This whole keeping secrets things is really starting to get old," I say, breaking the quiet which had begun to feel constricting. I'm thankful that at least people won't be able to hear this conversation beyond the confines of the booth.

Nate snaps his gaze away from Adam to look at me. "The blood technician, what was he like?"

"Apart from creepy," Felix adds, though the smile he throws my way is forced.

"He looked pretty normal: older guy, a kind of grizzled thing going on, about five eight, medium build." I shrug. "His name was Ethan Murphy."

Nate suddenly springs from his chair and walks to his leather jacket draped over the edge of the opposite sofa. Shuffling about in the pocket of the coat, he yanks something out.

Before he can turn around, Adam stands in a flash of movement that makes me flinch, his hand clasped around Nate's wrist. "You can't--"

"He needs to know," Nate interrupts before the team leader can finish his command.

I frown, shifting even further forward. "Know what?"

"No," Adam replies, the word sharp as he completely ignores my question.

Nate stares down at Adam. "If it's him, then he knows about the detective now."

"Then we'll deal with that if it's happened."

"I think Nate's right, if you ask me," Felix adds.

Adam only frowns at him, quite obviously not asking him. "Our duty is to keep him safe," Adam continues.

My mind is beginning to throb with confusion and annoyance.

Nate's tense expression softens. "Ignorance is not safety, Adam."

I stand from my seat, about to demand some answers, when Adam actually succumbs to Nate's stare. He releases Nate's wrist and steps aside, head bowed and a frown knotted between his brows.

Nate moves back toward me, hand outstretched to offer whatever he pulled from his jacket. "Here."

I take it from him, staring down. I'd expected a note or description. Instead, it's a photo--a photo of someone I instantly recognize.

"That's the blood technician. That's Dr. Murphy!" I glance up at the team. Most of them are avoiding my gaze, except for Nate, who only looks at me in concern.

"He's also the murderer," Mason says.

The statement is like a sledgehammer to the chest, and I choke down a breath through the ragged pain in my lungs.  _He's the... And I was..._ I felt a small about of bile rise in the back of my throat when I realize just how close I had gotten myself killed.

The news takes longer to process than I expected: the fact I had been standing in the room with the man who had killed so many, the fact he was still out there, and finally the pressing realization that this team--this Unit Bravo who were supposed to be working with me--had known all along.

But then I quickly remember who they're working for. I purse my lips, stemming the initial sting of shock, and look up at the team. "I'm guessing this was classified, and that's why you couldn't tell me?"

Nate gives a nod. "Yes, though I don't see how withholding it helped you in any way."

"But classified is still classified," I reply, placing down the photo on the table. "I understand."

Adam's brows shoot up so high I worry they'll be lost in his hairline. "You understand?"

How could I not? My mother, despite how closer we are, still shows the signs that she wants to tell me so many things, but can't because of her work, because they're classified. I know just how much of a pain that kind of information is to both withhold and deal with.

I give a sharp nod, reaching forward and grabbing up my coat. I then march away from the team towards the exit.

"Where are you going?" Adam calls.

"To arrest the killer. Now we know where he is, so we can finally end this case," I reply.

Striding through the bar, I tug on my jacket and push open the doors, heading into the cold night air outside. I only make it one step before I hear a group of footsteps behind me. I turn to find Unit Bravo following close behind.

"You can't arrest him," Nate says, continuing the conversation from inside the bar.

"Why not?" I reply, confusion in my words.

"Well..." Felix says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "It's just--"

Adam steps forward of the group. "We have orders."

"And you don't think it's worth breaking orders to save lives?" I bark back, spreading my hands out in front of me. "You'd rather wait for someone to tell you it's okay to help, rather than just doing it?"

"Our orders are the best course of action," Adam replies sharply. "Without emotion clouding our judgement."

I frown deeply, shaking my head. "Is losing your morals part of basic training at the Agency?"

His lip flickers into a half-sneer before he glances away quickly.

Nate steps up beside Adam, the caring, soft expression on his face doing nothing to calm me in that moment. "Please, Detective, there is more going on here than you can possibly imagine."

"Then tell me or I'm leaving." I fold my arms and wait for their response.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn't come. Nate glances at Adam, who shakes his head no.

Scoffing, I tun on my heel to leave.

My steps stumble to a slow halt as a strange sound echoes from a nearby alleyway. "Do you hear that?" I ask. Unit Bravo move closer, bodies tensed. "What is it?"

Felix sighs. "Chanting." My hand whips to my belt on instinct, and I let out a groan to find I've left my gun and spray back at the station.

It was only supposed to be a fun night out, after all.

The mumbling, rhythmic sound thrums louder until I begin to hear words clearly in the noise.

"Bring...kill..."

"Bring...not kill...Virgil..."

"Bring...Virgil...not kill...bring..."

My breathing turns to panting when I can finally hear the heavy, booming mantra completely.

"Bring Virgil. Not kill. Bring Virgil. Not kill. Bring Virgil. Not kill."

"What the hell?!" I yell, swinging around to face the others, the echo of the chant seeming to swirl from all around us.

"Great," Mason groans. "Thralls."

Shadows finally loom out of the darkness to match the voices. It's three men and a woman--though they barely look human at all.

My nose wrinkles at the stench permeating from them, reaching me even from this distance. It's acrid and rotten. That description also matches their looks: skin wrinkled almost beyond recognition, limbs and face swollen and bloated, eyes glazed over to a milky white, hair lank and matted.

In contrast with their ragged look, they each seem to be dressed in everyday work wear. Two of the men and the woman are dressed in suits; the other guy is wearing blue overalls.

The group of us stares at the group of them for the longest moment.

One of them lunges forwards.

My heart sinks to my stomach as Mason charges forward to clash with the attacker. A crack snaps through the darkness as the two begin to scuffle, their fight forcing them into the alleyway.

I don't get a chance to find my voice before the rest of Unit Bravo wade forward to tackle the other assailants.

A hundred questions flash into my mind like bullets ricocheting off metal. Who are they? What's a thrall? Why are they attacking us? Do Unit Bravo know who they are? What is happening?!

The thoughts burst away as a familiar voice sounds from behind me. "Detective?"

Spinning on the spot, I find Douglas standing and staring wide-eyed at the fight raging behind me. His phone is gripped tightly in his hand, the screen illuminating the fear on his stiff face.

From the rosy glow on his pale cheeks, I'm guessing he's been out at the bar too. It's not a good night for hanging out with friends, apparently.

A groan makes us both look sideways.

Another figure stumbles out of the alley.

"Bring Virgil. Not kill. Bring Virgil. Not kill." The man repeats the words over and over. A shiver courses down my spine as I hear them.

"Uh, Detective?" Douglas asks again, his feet shuffling back but not making much movement.

The man lumbers to a stop, flicking his milky gaze between Douglas and me. "Kill witnesses."

My blood turns to ice as the man swing around, arms flailing, and rushes at Douglas.

Shaking my head to clear it, I take a steadying breath. Then I sprint towards Douglas, overtaking the slow, lumbering attacker with ease.

Planting myself firmly between the man and Douglas--who is breathing heavily from his position behind me--I spread my arms out. "Douglas, you need to run."

"But what about--"

"Run!" I yell.

The boy doesn't wait for me to tell him again, turning on his heel and sprinting away. A ragged sob echoes as he goes.  _That's a good boy, Douglas. I know you're scared, but at least you're safe..._

The man seems dissuaded from pursuing as he now has me fully in his sights.

The members of Unit Bravo seem to be holding their ground against the groaning, zombie-like assailants. A surge of confidence bursts through me at that, and I turn back to the man who'd gone after Douglas. Then I catch my breath--he's right before me!

Before I can even call out, the man's hand wraps around my throat, his swollen fingers like an iron vice. I gasp against the grip as I'm lifted from my feet with ease. Then the man slams me back against the wall as though I weigh little more than a rag doll.

I grimace as the force explodes against my back.

"Not kill," The man chants, though it doesn't seem to do much to loosen his grasp.

I claw against his hand, realizing it's doing little good. Blackness blurs at the edge of my vision, and I know I'm going to have to do something quickly before I pass out.  _Thank God every man has the same weak spot._

Still scratching at him, I glance down and--fighting against the pain and oxygen-loss--I swing my foot forward.

I hit my mark.

The man wails in pain, doubling over and clutching his groin. With no support keeping me lifted, I tumble to the ground in a gasping heap.

Hacking out a grating cough, my vision clears. I can feel movement return to my body.

I use the wall to support myself and get back onto my feet, daring a glance over at the man who is still reeling in pain. Whoever these guys are, they must be hopped up on steroids to have that kind of strength!

The noise erupting from the commotion is bound to be heard inside the bar soon--even over the blasting music--or someone is going to pass by and might end up getting involved.

_I have to stop this fight..._

My gaze flashes over the scene, contained mostly to the street and alleyway.  _A distraction...a distraction..._ The thought spins in my mind until my gaze lands on my car parked nearby.

I smile.

Sprinting over towards it, I fumble in my coat pocket to yank out my keys. I flinch when Mason is suddenly thrown against it, sliding down the door. A large dent is left in his wake.

I let out a groan. "Oh, come on! I just got the other dent fixed!"

"Oh yeah, 'cause your car is the thing I'm worried about most right now," He hisses in return. The conversation is halted as one of the attackers grabs Mason by the collar of his t-shirt and yanks him back towards the fight.

Finally, I manage to jam my key into the lock, shimmying it slightly until the door swings open. I reach inside, flick up the volume, and slam my hand down on the button on my dash.

Sirens blast out of the car, battering against my hearing so loudly I wince and clamp my hands to the sides of my head. Pulling myself out of the car, I turn to see if the noise worked. I'm amazed to find it did better than expected.

The attackers drop to their knees, yelling out against the noise and covering their ears. Whatever illness they have must make them pretty sensitive.

But my triumph is stifled by the fact that the shrill noise seems to have affected Unit Bravo, too.

"Turn it off!" Mason yells, teeth gritted and skin paling. The group of them stumble to lean on whatever is nearby, as though unable to stand against the noise.

In a rush, I reach back inside and jab the button.

"Nice thinking, Detective." I hear Felix call, when quiet once again reigns and Unit Bravo recovers.

With precise moves that are almost terrifying, the group knock out the remaining assailants--the three men and the woman now lying unconscious at our feet.

"I hate thralls," Mason mutters, shoving the toe of his boot into the ribs of one of the men on the ground. He takes a cigarette out of his pocket, thrusting it between his bloodied lips and sparking it up.

With the fight now over and the adrenaline draining from my body, I try to think of what to say first. "What did you say the blood tech's name was?" Felix asks suddenly from where he's bend down near one of the men.

"Ethan Murphy," Adam replies, running a hand across his arm and wincing in pain at a painful-looking cut torn through his shirt and skin.

Felix stands back up, holding a driver's license in one hand. "Well, here's the real Murphy."

I finally force myself to speak. "What?"

"Our murderer must have put the real Murphy under his control when he took his place," Felix continues, ignoring my outburst.

"What?!" I repeat, but so much louder.

I let out a heavy, composure-regaining breath. "I'm going to assume there is a lot more going on with this case than I've been informed of."

I turn to face the team leader, supposing it should be him I get the answer from.

But my gaze flashes from his face to his arm, watching in disbelief as the cut he'd been fussing over--deep and obvious--suddenly heals.

I shut my eyes for a moment, just in case the fatigue is starting to get to me...but the wound is still completely mended when I look again!

Adam frowns, glancing down to where I'm staring before looking back up with an uncertain expression.

My shock is only interrupted by Mason saying, "Wasn't there another one of these guys?"

My eyes widen, and I spin on the spot to look at where the guy I'd been tackling should be.

"Ugh..." A solid mass cracks against the top of my head, shattering through my confusion and exhaustion.

"Detective!" I hear someone call, but my vision's already blurry.

"Take that thrall out now! Get to the detective!" I can barely make out that Mason's moving while Nate, Felix, and Adam rush over to me.

"Is he alright?"

"I don't know."

Unconsciousness finally overtakes me. I don't even feel the ground as I fall, only seeming to plummet into darkness. The last thing I'm aware of is a pair of strong hands on my shoulders.


	11. Chapter 10

**_Somewhere Outside of Wayhaven_ **

Soft voices echo inside my head. I frown against the pounding that's beginning to beat a painful rhythm inside my skull.

Blinking my eyes open, I squint them as I'm greeted by the cold, blinding glare of an artificial light, and also by a group of familiar faces: Nate, Adam, Felix, Mason, and...

"Mum?" I blink a couple of times, as though the image might be a mirage. But she's definitely there.

She gives a bright smile, one that contrasts with the starkness of the room. Bright white walls sting against my blurry vision, and the drone of the fanlight above is interspersed with the occasional beep of medical machines. The machines flank either side of the hospital bed I'm on.

And yet, it's definitely not the hospital in Wayhaven.

"What...what happened?" My voice comes out hoarse. I wince at the pain which comes through my limbs as I try to sit up further in the surprisingly comfy, if simple, bed.

Nate places a gentle but firm hand on my shoulder. "You shouldn't try to move yet."

"He's fine," Mason says from behind the others, with a dismissive shake of his head.

"You're damn lucky he is," Rebecca growls at him, and my brows arch in surprise to see Mason actually skulk away at her words.

"Do you remember what happened?" Adam asks, stepping forward to join the others standing at the edge of the bed.

I frown, trying to think past the pain radiating out from the top of my head. "There was a fight?" The fuzzy memories begin to clear. "The attackers...they were sick." Even with the piercing headache, it's hard to forget the assailants' grey skin and milky eyes. I shudder at the remembered thought...

And then it hits me.

My eyes widen, and my gaze shoots up to Adam. "You--you healed! I saw you heal!"

"Ah, so you remember that part too," Rebecca says with a frown, stepping away with a sigh.

The memory plays out like movie in my head--a very clear, very vivid movie. The gash had been deep, bloodied, maybe not fatal but definitely in need to stitches, and then...it had just mended!

"So..." I say, prompting the tense, quiet group. "Explain."

"What you saw was real," My mother says after a long, quiet moment.

"Telling him is a bad idea," Mason snaps. He receives a frown from Adam and turns away, slumping against the wall with a sour expression.

"Virgil's identity is known now. The Agency has given him clearance to a certain level. He needs to be informed." There is a heavy tone of regret to Rebecca's words as she says them.

I arch a brow. "So, is someone finally going to tell me what's really going on?"

Nate chuckles softly. "Yes."

"You know I work for the government," Rebecca begins, seeming almost hesitant to speak.

I nod.

"But it's not just our government," She continues, glancing around at the others in the room. "It's for all of them."

"All of them?" I can't help but repeat that statement.

"It's a global organization," Nate explains. "One that the world's governments all contribute to, but all try to pretend doesn't exist."

"Why?" The questions just keep blurting out.

"Because we aren't meant to exist," Felix says, having gotten a lot closer without me noticing. I flinch at his sudden proximity...and the long smile on his face.

"...I don't understand."

Rebecca smiles, sitting on the bed next to me.

As soon as she sits, I reach out to take her hand. I just need her to give me some kind of explanation that is going to make sense!

Her smile widens. She instantly places her other hand over mine, the action not unexpected.

She straightens herself, keeping the smile on her face. "The goal of the Agency is to deal with certain things that the general populace is unaware of. Things people don't want to know about."

"To keep the things that go bump in the night to people imaginations," Nate says, leaning against a counter and shoving his hands into his pockets.

"You know--the stuff that humans can't handle," Felix adds.

I tense. "Humans?"

"There are many things in this world that are kept secret from the public," Rebecca says. "But that secrecy is necessary. To protect the general populace, and to protect out agents."

The information is swirling like a blender in my head. "Why to protect your agents?"

"Because we're special," Felix says with a grin, leaning on the bed closer towards me.

Adam yanks him back, the young agent almost stumbling into the wall behind. "Enough, Felix."

Felix gives a soft chuckle, one Mason joins in with from the corner of the room.

I turn to Rebecca, about ready to plead for a straight-up answer.

She gives me one.

"They're vampires."

The words replay about a hundred times in the space of a second in my head.

_They're vampires._

My mind finally stops swirling enough for me to respond.

"You know..." I begin, frowning in thought. "There's a whole bunch of stuff that makes so much more sense now that I know that."  _Like the clashing egos, the strange word choices, the hyper sensitivity to certain things..._ And that's just to name a few.

Felix barks out a laugh. "Are you serious? No, 'Shit, vampires!' or 'Are you gonna suck my blood?' Just, 'Yeah, that makes sense.'" Though I don't appreciate his impersonation of me, I understand the sentiment.

"Well," I being, "when I know the whole truth, it's much easier to deal with than just secrets all the time."

Felix purses his lips, then smiles. "Alright, then."

The revelation isn't exactly a small thing. But it certainly helps put a lot of the weird stuff that's been happening lately into perspective.

Rebecca slides from the bed back onto her feet in a simple, graceful motion. "Well, if you think you're ready then, how about I show you around out facility and try to explain further?" She gestures to the darkened hallway beyond the door and I can't help but wonder about what else could be out there.

* * *

**_Outside the Medical Room_ **

The facility we're now walking around in--after I got dressed into a boringly plain grey t-shirt and dark trousers--is located under the abandoned back just outside of the big city, my mother tells me. There are Agency facilities like this hidden throughout not just the country, but the whole world.

I shake my head, unable to picture such a massive, complicated place built so close to the city. And no one has ever known about it!

"I can only show you some of the facility," Rebecca says as she leads me through another set of wide corridors. "You haven't obtained full clearance for all of it."

We move further into the bunker-like building. Tubular, concrete hallways line our path, the blandness of the place lifted only occasionally by a bright red or yellow pipe that clonks at random intervals, sounding like it could do with a good service.

Fluorescent lights hum from above, and my mind flurries with ideas about what might lay behind the thick, green steel doors latched to the walls at regular intervals. I'm not sure if I should be concerned by the smoky burning smell that wafts out from under some of them.

The whole ting is much blander than I was hoping for when concerning the supernatural...

One of the doors is slightly ajar, and I find my steps faltering to a stop to stare inside. It looks like some kind of training room; padded mats line the floor, a selection of exercise equipment is spread around the edge, and there are even a selection of blank-faced training dummies set up at one end.

A man steps onto the mats--tall, tone, and obviously there to get training done--and stares at the other end of the room. Then--in a brilliant spark of light--the man appears before one of the dummies...

...and slices its head off with a simple flick of his wrist!

"Whoa..." I breathe the word, unable to say much else after witnessing the powerful display. I continue to watch. This time, the man severs one of the dummies in half with what looks like a bone protrusion from his forearm.

My eyes widen at the sight of it.

Rebecca steps up beside me, resting a gentle hand on my back. "I realize this is a lot to take in..."

"It's just..." I begin, stumbling on a reply. I'm thankful for her warm touch, which soothes my nerves a little. "Yeah, it's a lot. But I can handle it."

Her expression shifts into a pained frown before giving a smile. "Of course you can. But remember, I'm here for you through this, as I always am."

I may have been accepting with the vampires, but it's still quite a revelation to take in. I place my hands on my hips and stare at the ground. "I just need to be able to think this all through..."

The man inside the training room shifts into action again, catching my attention. Rebecca seems to notice where my gaze has fallen and moved forward to gently close the door.

"That's Agent Fuller," She say.

"He's a vampire too?" I ask, the question spilling out of me bore I can stop it.

"No," She says with soft chuckle. "He's a demon."

"I suppose it makes sense that more than just vampires would be real too," I reply, glancing back at the door.

"There's far more than just vampires and demons," She replies with a heavy tone.

I look back at her with a brow arched.

She steps in front of me, placing her hands firmly on my arms and making me stand a little straighter. "I didn't want to bring you into this world, but your life may be at risk. If it takes you knowing the truth to save you, then that is what I'll do." Her grip softens, her hands dropping away. "I won't lose you."

For a moment, I'm reminded of what happened with my father.

Staring over at her, I can see she really means it. Her face is drawn and pale, fear glinting in her eyes, and for once she looks...older. Tired.

She suddenly faces me with a straight expression. "There are things we still need to discuss. Follow me."

* * *

**_In the Facility Caferteria_ **

Sitting in the empty cafeteria, I've managed to find most of my senses again, though my head still aches as it's stuffed to bursting with all of the new information.

The boringness of the room matches the concrete corridors we had just left, a chill settling over me at the sheer size of it. Rows of perfectly straight canteen tables line the room, and the empty seats can't help but make me wonder how many people...that is, how many creature are in the facility.

More artificial light pours down from above, with not a window in sight. Even in the vastness of the room, it feels suddenly very constricting.

At least it doesn't smell like smoke any more. Just disinfectant and cleanliness. Overly clean. Like everything natural about his place had been stripped and wiped away... Suddenly, I want the burning scent back.

"Here you go," Rebecca says, sliding a mug of hot chocolate in front of me across the beige, plastic table.

I grip the cup and take a sip, knowing the sugar will help with the shock. It's obviously something Rebecca knows too, and I can't help but wonder if it was something she'd needed when she'd found out about all of this for the first time.

She shuffles onto the bench opposite me, leaning her elbows on the table and sipping at her own drink. Steam curls from the mug, dancing in front of her closed eyes and into her dark brown hair. It's strange to see her so at ease.

Apparently my learning this secret has lifted an extreme weight from her mind.

"I remember what it was like to be told about all of this," She begins, placing down her mug but still staring into it. "How all of the nightmares from books and movies and our fears are real."

"And that they're working for our governments, let's not forget that part," I reply, sipping at the chocolate. The hot liquid burns against my throat, but it's enough to help shock some feeling back into my limbs.

"They don't work for the governments. They work for the Agency." She flicks her gaze up to mine. "And if they didn't work here, what do you tink they'd be doing?"

I shrug. "I suppose I have no idea."

"Well, unfortunately, you're going to have to." She shifts further forward on the bench, her voice echoing from the concrete walls.

"There are some supernatural beings who don't want to comply with the treaties--"

"Treaties?" I interrupt her with the question so fast my drink almost spills over my lips.

Rebecca passes me a napkin, tutting at me in the exact same manner she used to when I was young and spilt food down my front.

"The treaties are pacts," She explains, "signed between the Agency and supernaturals. They're updated and signed at regular intervals, to keep them up to date with our fast changing world."

She grips her mug tighter. "Most supernaturals aren't from our world, but they manage to find their way here through cracks between dimensions. And once they're here, they can't get back. The treaties detail the terms by which each species can remain in this world, and be under the Agency's protection and guidance. We protect humanity from supernaturals...but we also protect supernaturals from humanity."

"...Aren't from our world?" It's about the only thing I caught from that speech. ...Well, the only thing that confused me.

"No. They are from an alternate dimension." She takes a deep breath. "The Echo World. It's very similar to our own, but in some ways extremely different."

"And by 'extremely different,' you obviously mean full of supernatural creatures?" Sarcasm laces the words, but an uncertainty also tugs at my voice too.

"Yes," She replies bluntly. "There are supernaturals who don't agree with the terms, and it's also the Agency's duty to enforce the rules and hunt down those who don't comply."

She shifts slightly. "Most of our field agent teams are made up to supernaturals. Normal humans just don't have the ability or strength to take down those supernaturals who go rogue."

I take a gulp of my drink. "What happens to them, the rogue supernaturals, when you catch them?"

Her lips purse, and her grip wraps around her mug so tight I worry the cup might break.  _Did my curiosity just kill a cat?_ "The punishment is...not a kind one."

"You kill them?" I ask, a brow arched.

She moves her gaze up slowly to mine, sympathy in her eyes. "That would be a kindness." She suddenly stands from the bench and gestures for me to follow once again.

* * *

**_Back in the Facility's Corridors_ **

It feels like Rebecca and I have been walking for hours before we finally draw to a stop. We are in front of a pair of thick, green steel doors that blockade the entirety of this section of hallway.

Two guards stand either side, clad in dark grey combat gear and heavy chain-mail vests. Three electronic panels line the wall behind them.

The guards stiffen on seeing Rebecca approach, and I can't help but arch my brows in surprise to their tense response to her presence. Then their attention flicks to me, hands reaching towards the batons holstered on their thigh.

"He's with me," My mother states, and the guards give a nod of reply and instantly relax. Rebecca proceeds to press her thumb against one of the panels, then bends down to the next to scan her eye, and finally presses a selection of odd-looking symbols on the last one.

A loud horn echoes throughout the corridor, a red light flashing overhead before the doors make a hissing noise. They begin to swing open slowly.  _So...at a guess, this section is secured by two highly trained guards, and those panels; a DNA scan, a retina scan, and a passcode... Whatever is in this section needs this level of security for a reason._ And I'm pretty sure I'm going to find out why in just a few more moments.

Rebecca tenses, staring ahead as the doors continue to open. "I'm not sure you should be seeing this, but I need you to understand the importance of what we do here. And the seriousness of it."

We continue on down yet another corridor. It's cold--white clouds of breath form in the air in front of my lips, and the chill sinks into my skin as deep as the shadows outside the pools of pallid light that illuminate out way.

Turning a corner, Rebecca draws to a stop. "This is the punishment for those who go rogue."

I stumble to a halt, staring over the scene before me. On either side of me, stretching for as far as I can see before more corridors split away, are rows of glass-fronted cells. Inside each cell is a white-tiled room. A metal tube protrudes down from the ceiling, and a plume of sickly-yellow vapor pours from the bottom.

Huddled on the floors of these cages are a variety of creatures--some human-looking, others not even close. Each one of their bodies and faces is contorted into a frozen state of fear: eyes wide, fingers or claws grasping into fists, mouths held open in silent screams.

I stumble forward, my footsteps echoing from the floor and seeming to ripple from the glass in thudding waves...or that could just be the intense beat of my heart drumming in my chest and ears.

_Mum..._ A small thrill of that childhood fear I felt during the first time I remember trick-or-treating and I walked up to a stranger's house alone crawled up my spine. Speeding my steps, I move to walk closer beside Rebecca, feeling slightly better with her presence so close beside me.

I notice a small smile on her lips, but it shifts from her expression quickly.

"What's wrong with them?" I finally ask.

Rebecca steps closer to one of the cells and stares inside, remorse and sympathy tugging at the frown on her brow. "It's called 'caging.' It's a punishment that was designed by the supernaturals themselves, when the Agency was first formed."

She gestures to the metal tube in the ceiling. "This releases a toxin which traps the prisoner inside their own mind. It makes their worst fears and memories a reality to relive inside their head, and cages them in a state of paralysis."

It's difficult to keep my gut reactions to this contained.

"Why does their punishment have to be..." I glance around, unsure how to finish the question.

I notice a paralysed creature in the cell nearby, a row of scales lining their back all the way down to a tail that extends out from a spiked spine. They're spread on their side, clutching their knees to their chest and rocking, biting down on their lower lip so hard that a dribble of blue blood has pooled beneath their head.

"...So extreme?" I finish finally.

"It's the only way we can manage them. If we didn't do this, then all these rogue supernaturals would likely be able to escape our facility. Some of them possess abilities and strength fat beyond what we can contain by normal means."

Rebecca steps up to the cell. "That creature has killed a dozen people and countless supernaturals."

I flinch a little at this news.

"They used acid to melt the skin from their victims before eating them, usually while the victim was still alive."

My stomach reels at the imagery forced into my head, and I glance away from the cell.

"The supernaturals in our world don't need to kill to survive. The Agency's job is also to provide food, shelter, and aid to all supernaturals who obey the rules. We help them acclimatize to our world." She nods her head at the cell, her expression hardening a little. "That supernatural had the opportunity, but they chose a different path, and they knew the consequences that breaking the laws would bring."

"Um, ma'am?" A voice interrupts the seriousness of the conversation. We both turn to look behind us where one of the guards is standing.

"Yes?" Rebecca replies in a stiff tone.

The guard shifts uneasily. "We have a prisoner transfer soon..."

"Of course," She replies. "We were leaving now anyway." And with a final glance towards me, she heads back towards the exit. I follow a few paces behind.

* * *

**_Outside the Facility's Common Room_ **

Uncertainty stalks me down the corridors as we head back through the facility. The hallway is too silent, too empty, to feel wholly at ease.

My mind is still reeling from everything that I've learnt and seen. It's not exactly something I can deal with in the space of a couple of hours!

I almost bang into Rebecca as she comes to a stop outside of a slightly more battered green metal door.

"This is the common room," She says. "If you wait here for a while, I'll have a guest room sorted for your stay here."

"My stay?" I ask.

"You took quite a nasty bump to the head," She replies, her worried gaze flickering up to the bandage that's wrapped around the top of my head. "We need to keep an eye on you for a while. You'll also need to be debriefed further about the true details of the case you're working on."

_At least I finally get to find the truth out about that._ "What about my work? The station--"

"That's all taken care of. Don't worry," She replies with a small smile. Then the expression falters, and she frowns. "I am truly sorry about all of this..."

Finally, the overwhelming thoughts inside my head break, and I can only focus on my mother and the realization of how she kept this a secret from me.

_...But, she's my mother. It's their job to do whatever they must to keep their child safe, and I'm certainly no exception to that, given what happened with my father..._ Plus, I could never be mad at my mum; I'm sorta a mama's boy, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

I let out a short breath, realizing now how much of a strain it must have been for her to keep me safe and oblivious to this terrifying revelation for all those years.

Stepping forward, I draw her into a hug. It's a few moments before her obvious surprise shifts, and she hugs me back.

"Thank you for trying to keep me out of all of this," I say, burying my face into her shoulder. The familiar smell of vanilla fills my nose, a scent I've associated with her since my childhood.

She squeezes me tighter. "I didn't want to burden you with the nightmares that knowing about this world could bring. It's not an easy thing you know."

"I understand." And I really do. Suddenly, I understand my mother much better than I ever have before.

"I hope this only brings us closer." She draws back and wipes a tear quickly from her cheek before straightening herself out. "I'll have someone come find you when your room is ready."

Before I can reply, she turns and continues on down the dimly-lit hallway. I watch her go, a smile catching my lips as she disappears around the corner.  _Heh... Same ol' mum._

Shaking the moment away, I grip the door handle and shove it open, heading inside.

The common room is full of warmth, especially compared to the rest of the facility--like stepping into a log cabin after hiking through snow. Worn leather sofas dot the open space, partnered with burgundy velvet armchairs that have just the right amount of wear to them to make them seem homey rather than outdated.

Intricately patterned rugs cover a polished wood floor, and even the concrete walls have been given a wash of cream paint. Bookcases add a sort of regal quality to it all; even the empty pool table at the far end seems suited to the room.

It's also brighter than any place I've been here so far. An ornate ceiling light glows with an orange hue and there are a couple of table lamps dotted about. There's even an attempt at some nature, with a few lush, green, frill-leafed ferns spilling out of some terracotta pots on shelves.

The heady scent of frankincense pours from an incense stick smoking away on the nearby side table.

It's a more welcoming space than any I've seen so far.

_...Um..._

Well, maybe except for the four vampires staring expectantly at me.

Unit Bravo remain silent as they look over me.

Felix is sprawled over a rather fancy-looking armchair near a brass-colored radiator; Mason is perched on a mahogany side table, only just avoiding knocking off a tassel-edged table lamp. Nate is propped against the wall on the opposite side with his hands in his pockets, and Adam is inspecting me with an arched brow from his place leaning against the back of a tall-backed recliner.

"So," Felix says, a long smile beginning to form on his face. "Still so accepting of the whole vampire thing?"

Mason give a snigger of laughter at the comment.

Nate give a disapproving tut, then steps towards me with a soft smile. "It gets easier."

"So..." I say, elongating the word as I'm unsure what to really say. "This is really happening."

Felix chuckles. "Yeah, it really is."

"Guess I'm just going to have to deal with it." I say it more to myself than to them. It's not that I can't accept that they're vampires--I've kinda always believed that supernaturals were real--it's just my head hasn't put all of the pieces into place yet so it can be processed.

"It might help if you did that," He says with a smile.

A knock interrupts the conversation, the door creaking open to reveal a woman dressed in the same garb as the other guards I'd seen.

"Your room is ready, Detective Sanders." She says, the words pronounced with an Indian accent.

I nod, more than ready for some sleep. My mind and body are beyond exhausted, and I'd be surprised if I don't surface from bed for a week at this rate. ...Is that a joke I can use, since I'm an insomniac?

Moving towards the door, I glance to the side as Nate steps up close and hold it open for me.

"I'm glad you're not blaming Rebecca for how all of this went down," He says, a smile creasing his features. He obviously heard our discussion.

"She's a good agent," He goes on, "loyal to the Agency and its rules. I know her well enough to know there must have been times when it's killer her not to tell you about all of this. She loves you, very much."

"I love her too," I reply with a sigh. "I know she was just trying her best. It was a big secret to keep all these years."

"Yeah," Nate replies, giving a nod. "I forget what it must be like for agents who have to keep everything from their families."

I throw him a half-smile before leaving to follow the guard down the hall.

* * *

**_The Next Morning_ **

The guest room had been functional, it a little dreary. At least the bed had been comfortable enough.

Getting to sleep had been the same as usual. Sleeping in a strange place hadn't helped to relax me much. Which my insomnia shoved into my face and laughed evilly at.

Still, I managed to get some good hours of sleep before I'd eventually been woken by a guard, who told me Rebecca had requested I meet her in one of the medical room.

So, here I am--sitting on a hospital bed and staring over my mother and her team of vampires.

It's certainly a different start to my usual day.

"I think  proper introductions are in order," Rebecca says suddenly, breaking the uncertain silence which had hung around us all for the last five minutes.

She steps up towards Felix first, who is--as usual--spread with legs and arms dangling over a nearby chair. "Agent Felix Hauville. Newest member of Unit Bravo and our reconnaissance and infiltrations expert."

Felix grins brightly. "And a vampire. Don't forget that." I had to bite down a chuckle.  _Can we add sassy friend to that list?_

Rebecca throws him a glare, then moves towards Mason. "Specialist Agent Mason." No surname follows.

Mason makes no move except to let the cigarette in his mouth drop a little, a flurry of smoke streaming like a veil in front of his face.

"Mason is our interrogations expert," Rebecca explains.

"It's his warm, open personality that just makes everyone want to spill their secrets to him," Felix says with a quiet chuckle.

"Mason's sensory and pheromone abilities are...much more powerful than most vampires," Rebecca explains, though I note the hesitation in her voice--and also the frown that hits Felix's face at the words.

Rebecca doesn't give me a chance to inquire about just exactly what that means before she turns to Nate. "Agent Nathaniel Sewell."

He smiles. "Nate is still just fine."

Rebecca places a hand on his arm. "Nate is second-in-command of this unit and is also our research and information expert."

I nod, easily picturing him hunched over a desk, pouring over books and files while scribbling out notes. Though he is quite obviously strong and tall, he doesn't seem the type who would get into a fight unless pushed. At least, from what I've seen of him so far.

"And of course, Commanding Agent Adam du Mortain." Rebecca turns her focus to him and I stare over at the team leader, the usual frown set on his brow. "Adam commands the unit, but is also our combat expert."

_No surprise there, then..._ I keep the though to myself.

The room falls quiet once again. I realize that, as the introductions are over, they are waiting for me to respond.

"And I'm Detective Virgil Sanders," I say in introduction. "Ordinary human."

Nate's jaw tightens. "Not exactly ordinary."

At first I think he's just being nice. But when everyone's focus flicks towards me, I realize there must be a deeper meaning to his words.

"Your blood," Rebecca begins, running a hand through her hair. "It's...special."

"My blood?" I repeat." Why?"

"We're not entirely sure," Nate replies.

My mother takes a step towards me. "But now that you know everything, we hoped we could use this opportunity to find out."

"How?"

"We'd like to run some tests."

It's hard to not tense at the words.

"It's only blood tests, physical tests, just that kind of thing," Nate explains, seeming to sense my uncertainty.

I frown and shake my head. "Is there something wrong with my blood?"

"There's nothing wrong with it," Adam suddenly says, and it's the first time I've heard him speak since the day before. "In fact, it's unique."

"You possess--what we can only guess for now--some sort of evolved hormone or mutation," Nate explains. "It renders you immune to a vampire's pheromone abilities."

Felix scoffs. "Yeah, we can't even use ours on you." He quickly snaps up his hands in defense when Rebecca arches a brow in his direction. "Not that we would have tried!"

It's hard to straighten out all the confusion in my head, but one thing becomes plainly clear. "The killer in Wayhaven isn't some ordinary psycho, is he?" I ask.

Nate shakes his head. "No. He's a vampire."

I glance over them. "Like you?"

"Nothing like us," Adam retorts, as though the question had been ridiculous to ask. He pushed himself off of the wall. "We aren't killers."

"Calm down," I say with a click of my tongue. "I didn't mean it that way."

Adam purses his lips and turns away, though I notice Nate crack a smile.

Thankfully, Rebecca speaks again to interrupt the oncoming quiet.

"The killer in Wayhaven, currently using the alias Murphy, had you pinned as his next target. I sent my team in to protect you and keep you away from him." She pinches the bridge of her nose. "But you're rather more persistent than even I could have anticipated."

I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not.

"If he's after me, then why did he kill those other people?" I suddenly realize that all of the weird blood Verda found suddenly makes so much more sense.

"Some of them had the mutation as well," She continues.

"We don't know why he's after people with the mutation, or what he's trying to accomplish," Nate explains.

"He seems to be running some kind of experiment on the victims," Adam says, not looking at me as he speaks. "We're not sure why. His victims would be immune to his powers, so they'd be more difficult for him to...acquire."

I shudder at the choice of word.

"He's not doing a very good job on those experiments unless death is what he wants," I reply, uncertain how to handle yet another truck-load of bizarre information. At least focusing on the case had calmed my thoughts on the whole vampire thing for the moment.

Adam shakes his head. "We don't think death is the intended result."

"And whatever he's trying," Felix chimes in, "he's pretty much run out of test subjects."

Rebecca turns to meet my eyes, her lips drawn tight in worry. "From what we can find, we think you are the last one with the blood type he is after."

They all stare at me closely for a long moment, waiting while I process that information.

A psycho vampire is hunting me down for my blood that he wants to do some kind of experiment on? "Because I wasn't terrified enough about all of this before..." I say, my words trailing off as I shake my head.

"Don't worry, Virgil," My mother says, sitting on the end of the bed. "We won't let him hurt you."

A nice sentiment...but I'm not sure how much words are really going to help.

"So, do you agree to the tests?" Adam asks bluntly. "It could help narrow down why he wants you do badly."

This new world I've been plunged into might be a little clearer if I can at least know what's happening with my blood...and possibly why Murphy wants it.

But then, I still don't know much about this Agency or what their plans are. Who knows what they want from the results of these tests?

I guess I'll have to go with my instincts.

_...Do I really have to worry though? Mum would never work with or for an agency or company that went against her morals, even if they threatened my life; plus, I know that I can trust Adam, Nate, Mason, and Felix, and I know that they'll do what they must to protect me from Murphy, with or without my mother's orders._

There's no way any of us will make any kind of progress if I refuse to do these tests. Besides, I want to know what's going on as well.

"I suppose it would be best," I reply and give a decisive nod. "I'll do them. I'm kind of interested to know what the results might be myself."

They all look relieved at my response.

"This is the first real chance to find out about this mutation," Rebecca says with a genuine smile. 'You'll be helping us all so much. Now, come with me. I'll take you to the lab."

Sliding from the bed, I make to follow my mother, suddenly very aware of the gazes of Unit Bravo watching me as I go.


	12. Chapter 11

**_A Few Days Later_ **

The next few days pass in a blur. I spend most of my time huddled away in a medical lab, surrounded by white-coated technicians who poke and prod at me as though I'm some complicated puzzle that needs solving.

Rebecca has booked a whole week of tests. Even though I agreed to them, it's starting to irk me a little. I haven't seen the outside world for so long, and being relatively idle is making me brain go a bit stir-crazy.

This morning, on my way to the cafeteria, I can't help but let my mind run to Unit Bravo. They've kept their distance--as had most everyone in the facility--and I don't know if it's because they're unsure how to deal with me now, or if they have no interest because they don't need to guard me like before.

The team of them have bunked down here in guest rooms too, and my gaze flickers over their doors as I turn the corner of the corridor.

As I make to pass by their rooms, as I have every morning for the past few days, I find my steps faltering to a stop outside of Adam's door. Unlike the ominous steel doors in the rest of the facility, the guest room doors are wood, though they're still slathered in that same green paint.

I peer at the grain of the wood showing through the paint as though staring at it closer might give me some clue as to why I've stopped here. Do I really want to talk to Adam right now? The team leader id brooding and imposing in normal situations...I'm not sure how he's dealing with all of this.

_...Is it strange that I kinda want to see him? Just to check in, or make a little small talk?_

I can't seem to explain it... It's like I can't help but want to see him.

My face contorts at the fuddle of thoughts that clash in my head.  _Okay, so there've been some...moments. But that doesn't necessarily mean anything. That's just...people...being close..._

Like in a car, staring into each other's eyes; or him showing that he's got a sense of humor, even if it's a dry one; or being in the cold of night, comfortably standing beside each other, and then suddenly being wrapped up in his coat, him tugging me a little closer to his form; or seeing that he actually does care about me and my safely; or feeling as safe and relaxed as I do when he's around or at my side...

The more I try to clear my head, the more my teeth grind together.

Shaking away the intrusive thoughts, I tun back to the door.

Raising my head, I bring it forward to thump it against the wood--only to almost topple forwards as the door swings open. Thankfully, I manage to keep my balance, snapping my hand back to my side and staring over Adam in the doorway.

He stares back, a brow quirking up. "Something you need, Detective?"

"I was just checking in," I reply after regaining my composure. "To clear the air with everything that's happened."

He folds his arms, and my gaze flickers to his suddenly stretched t-shirt with the motion. It's light blue--the most color I think I've ever seen him wear. My attention flashes back to his eyes as he begins talking.

"That is unnecessary," He replies in a curt tone. "I thought you were busy with the tests?"

The reminder makes my shoulder drop a little. "I am."

He nods. "Then at least you can now be useful."

The statement makes my eyes widen, a deep frown eventually settling on my face.  _Really? This is the guy I'm attracted to?_

"Is this a thing you do all the time?" I ask, arching a brow and letting out a breath. "Insult everyone as much as possible?"

Adam's eyes narrow a fraction, though I notice his shoulders shift as though my words put a weight on them. "I do not insult. I speak honestly. Something I'm at liberty to do with you now that everything is out in the open."

He meets my eye. "Working with a human will only slow us down."

It's like he just can't stop being an ass!

I lean back, hands on my hips. "I'm not exactly thrilled to be working with you either. Being teamed with a bunch of--"

"Monsters?" The word growls from between his lips, and he takes a wide step forward towards me. There is a definite threat in his voice and yet...it's hard to ignore the pain that streaks across his face when he says it.

My gaze snaps to meet his, the man having gotten even closer when he threw the accusation at me.

God, how many times have people called him that? How many times has he been looked at in fear, like he was the boogeyman that children are scared of? How many times has someone addressed him as less than human?

The word hangs in the air--heavy and intrusive. My frown softens, my gaze catching his. My heart skips in my chest, as though wanting to beat out of my body and closer towards him.

"I don't think you're a monster, Adam," I reply finally, my tone just as serious as his had been.

The hostility in his stance drops, though he seems hesitant. A frown fights for position on his expression, but it succumbs to regret instead. "Maybe you should."

"Why?" The word is breathy as it leaves me, an emotional weight seeming to grip at my chest from nowhere.

The slightest smile curves his lips. "Because it would be safer for you." The frown finally sets deep on his face. "For me."  _...What?_

He shakes his head, straightening himself. "I mean for all of us. We won't harm you, but we're still dangerous."

The tension of the previous moment, which Adam had obviously been keep to dispel, doesn't seem to budge. I shift under the weight of it.

"Right." It's all I can say as I reply. With silence the only thing to greet me, I make to turn away.

I only take one step before his hand reached out to my arm. "Detective..."

I spin around and meet his eyes, my gaze dropping to his lips as they seem to form around words he can't quite speak.  _Wait a second. Is he..?_

"Ah, there you are!"

Adam's hand snaps away from me so quickly he almost stumbles a step back.

The doctor who has been treating my injury waddle forward, jostling a bunch of paper in his hands. "I've been looking for you, Detective. Time for your check-up!" He says it so cheerily he makes it sound like going on a ride at a theme park.

When I glance over my shoulder, Adam in already retreating back into his room. My focus flutters down to where he'd touch my arm; a tingle is still erupting on my skin where the contact had been.

"Detective?" The doctor repeats, pursing his thin lips.

"Sure." I give a nod, following the rotund little man down the hallway...though I can't help but cast a final glance back down the hall.  _...Are you as unsure about your feelings towards me, as I am with you, Adam?_

* * *

**_Later That Day_ **

Whether it's afternoon or evening, I can't tell. The apocalypse could have happened, and I don't think I would've felt the slightest shudder down here.

As I stride down the hallway, more confident in my way after a few days, I pass by one of the many agents who work here. They give a smile of greeting as they pass before glancing down at a small pad in their hands. Clawed hands. Talons curl out of their fingertips, clasping at the edges of the paper, and I'm surprised they can hold it without shredding it.

It's certainly not the weirdest thing I've seen while I've been down here.

The initial shock and surprise had worn off some time ago, but it's still not something that can just pass me by without notice. This world...it's a lot to take in.

I'd been pretty accepting of it all from the start. Sure, hearing that supernatural creatures are secretly working to protect humans and others isn't something you ever expect to heat. It had been pretty cool to find out though!

But now, after having a while to let it sink in and become truly real...

It's a lot to deal with, but it's not as hard as I was expecting. In fact, I'm pretty calm about the whole thing. Having seen a variety of supernatural agents, all of who seem more interested in getting on with their own work than trying to harm me, it's becoming almost like I've been in this world for longer than a few days.

Shaking the thought away, I reach out to push open the door to the common room. Once again, the intense, rich scent of frankincense is the first thing to greet me. The aroma is so strange after the lack of natural scents in the rest of the facility.

Unit Bravo and my mother are already waiting inside, the team strewn about the room in the usual way while Rebecca stands to one side. A sudden silence descends over them all as I enter; a gold-trimmed clock clunking the time on the far wall in the only thing to make noise.

"You wanted to see me?" I say, stepping further inside. The warmth and cosiness in the common room is such a bizarre shift from the rest of the facility. It's hard not to feel like I'm shutting out another world as I close the door.

Rebecca smiles. "We've recieved some of the results of your tests from the science team."

My eyes widen. "That was fast."

"The Agency is nothing but efficient," Nate says, his tone light.

I lean against a corner table, the antique-looking table lamp wobbling slightly as I do. "What do they reveal?"

"Straight to the point," Felix says, glancing over at me from his armchair and smiling. "You'll fit in well with the rest of the team."

Rebecca holds a file in her hand but doesn't need to look at it as she begins to speak. "As we suspected, the mutation in your blood means that a vampire's pheromones will have no use against you."

I give a nod.

"It's a good thing to have confirmed. But it's what else they discovered that has us all reeling."

The team lean a little closer, attentions caught.

Rebecca smiles. "It seems your blood doesn't just stop the pheromone abilities of vampires, but that type of power from all supernatural creatures."

I frown. "What does that mean?"

"Many supernaturals have mind-altering or pheromone-type abilities of some kind," Nate explains, still obviously surprised at this information. "Sirens with their voice, for example."

"And you are immune to them all, it would seem," Rebecca says, no small amount of happiness in that statement.

"And what about our physical abilities?" Mason asks from one corner. "Does his weirdness hinder those?"

Rebecca things her lips, placing the folder down. "Unfortunately, we believe the mutation does nothing to alter those."

I notice as a small frown of relief settles over Mason's features, but it's quickly veiled behind a fog of cigarette smoke.

"Physical abilities?" I ask, the information finally settling in my already full mind.

"Speed. Agility. Strength," Adam explains. "Most supernaturals are stronger than humans. Also our sensory abilities: hearing, sight, et ectera."

"But the fact there may be more to discover about this mutation is astounding," Rebecca says, true excitement in her voice and lighting her expression.  _Heh, you haven't changed a bit, mum._

"So, how does it work?" Felix asks, shifting in the seat to face Rebecca further.

"That's something we're not sure on," She replies. "It does seem to be some natural evolution or mutation."

"It makes sense," Nate adds, fingers on his chin in thought. "Supernaturals have been in this world for a long time now, so it's understandable humans would begin evolving defenses against them. Even if they don't know it."

There is a collective nod from everyone in the room.

"Except there only seems to be one left in that evolutionary tree," Felix says, making everyone swing their heads around in my direction.

"I'm still confused. Why would Murphy want me if these pheromone things don't work?" I ask.

"Good question," Adam says, and I almost topple over at his agreement.

"We have a couple of theories on that..." Rebecca adds, though she hesitates to say anything more. "Some I'm not so keen to think about."

"Had it got something to do with the way he smells different?" Mason asks, voice husky as he continues to puff on his cigarette.

Rebecca stiffens. "I believe so.

"Smells different?" I'm not sure whether or not to be offended by his statement.

Felix smiles, returning his attention to me. "Yeah, it's something we all notices on meeting you. You smell..."

"Overwhelming," Adam suddenly stammers, gaining everyone's stunned attention. He stiffens, as though it was suppose to be a silent thought. "More enticing than most humans. Just your blood, I mean."

"Uh-huh..." Felix says, grinning at the team leader, who sneers and quickly looks away from the younger agent.

"Yes, well..." Rebecca says, interrupting the heavy quiet about to fall over us.

Adam steps closer to Rebecca. "And what is going to happen in the meantime?"

She glances up at him, no longer with the softer expression of my mother but the harder one of a leader. "With the doctor's approval, Virgil will return to working on the case, and Unit Bravo are officially assigned to his protection until this is over. You will continue to work together to catch Murphy, but Virgil cannot go near him."

"We can have each other's backs," I say, looking at each of them. "You guys have mine. I'll have yours."

Nate smiles brightly, as does Felix, while Mason bites back and obvious remark. Adam looks less than impressed at the suggestion.

"Where do we start?" Felix asks. "Murphy's got to know we're onto him now."

"Agreed," Rebecca says. "I've had agents watching the hospital where he was working, and he hasn't returned. It seems he must have left in a hurry."

"Maybe he left something behind if he was in a rush," I say, thoughts of the case beginning to once again take precedence in my mind. It's nice to have something to focus on.

She nods. "My thinking too. It's at least somewhere to start."

After gathering up the folder, she begins to make her way towards the door. "Murphy is still a threat, one we can't fully gauge the strength of. Be careful." Her gaze lands on me as she says that.

The past few days have also been mostly absent of her presence expect for a few visits. My guess is that she wanted to give me space to deal with all of it, as the vampires had.

It's a bit of a surprise she hasn't been around more. My reaction had been warm towards her after everything, and I'd hoped we might continue that. Maybe she is still unsure of my feelings about it, now that I've had a while to let it all sink in.

I offer a smile at her obvious concern, warmed by it. I still understand it's not all her fault, and we should be able to most past this.

She returns the smile, her eyes brightening. And with the smile still in place, she strides to the door and heads out.

When I glance back to the room, I find Unit Bravo staring over at me.

"Something wrong?" I ask, curving a brow at their expressions.

Felix holds up his hands. "Just a sweet little moment to cherish, is all."

"Enough, Felix," Adam chides, though there is no real strength behind the words. When the team leader throws me a glance, there is only relief in the gaze. The expression is gone before I can think on it further.  _Told you that I didn't think you were a monster._

I'm pretty sure Adam was worried, like Nate had been when I first found out, that I would be upset with my mother, but I'm not. I could never be upset with her; she's had to raise me as best as she could on her own after what happened with my father, and I know none of it has been easy on her. How on earth could I be angry with a woman as strong and brave as my mother?

It's the first time I've been alone with the whole team for a while now. The atmosphere is much tenser than it had been before I was told everything...

"Thank god we'll be out of this place soon," Felix says, following with a relief-filled breath. "Back to the real world. It feels like we've been trapped down here!"

My mind continues to play out the conversation that just happened, and I look towards them with a confused frown. "So, there physical abilities you guys have..." I balance myself on the arm of a nearby chair. "What sort of things can vampires actually do? Is it really like the stories?"

Mason scoffs, almost choking on his puff of smoke. "I wouldn't confuse us for the creatures in those books."

Nate ignores him, coming to stand a little closer. "Some are the same: strength, speed, agility. That kind of thing."

"You guys all have boosted sense though, right?" I ask.

Nate nods, obviously expecting questions. "Yes. We have hyper senses."

"What does that mean exactly?"

"It just means we can pick up on things that humans can't," Nate replies. "We have sharper hearing, better eyesight, sensitive touch--"

Felix chuckles at that. "Oh yeah..." It's hard to bite down my chuckle, but I manage.

Adam rolls his eyes at the younger agent before saying, "It does make us more susceptible to heat and cold, as well as pain, which can work against us."  _Like being right next to a police siren blaring at full volume._ It explains what happened before I was knocked out, and why Felix mentioned that Mason didn't do so well in the cold.

"It also makes it easier to sense when others are around, especially humans," Nate adds. "You are all quite easy to pick up on. As well as how you're feeling."

I try not to tense at that. "You can tell how a person is feeling?"

"Yeah," Felix says nonchalantly. "Body language, heart rate, pupil dilation, pheromones...that kind of thing."

"That sounds like a pretty useful ability to have," I reply.

"Not all the time," Nate says with a soft laugh. "We try to control it as best we can, so we're not invading people's personal feelings and privacy..."

"But it's part of what we are," Adam says, tone stern with defensiveness. "We can't just turn it off."

I arch a brow at the strong remark, but decide not to reply and rile him further.

"How about sunlight?" I ask. "I've seen you all outside in the daytime."

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Nate replies.

Adam sighs. "We are affected by sunlight, yes, but we don't burst into flames. Our abilities are weakened quite considerably."

"Well," Felix adds, not looking up from where he's twirling his fingers around each other. "Mason's not as weakened as the rest of us, but that's only because he's damn strong to begin with."

My gaze flashes to Mason, who doesn't even flinch at being mentioned. "So you are weak during the day?"

"Not weak," Adam barks in defense. "Still strong enough to deal with any threat that presents itself."

I give a slow nod.

"The books really do seem to have gotten a lot wrong," I say, half in joke and half in seriousness.

"Vampires are legends, not reality for so many people," Nate says. "It makes sense that only some of the stories would hold truth."

"Yeah, lucky for us," Felix remarks with a scoff.

There seems to be a general agreement from the team, who all nod slowly.

"Do you have reflections?" I ask. "In mirror? Or photos?"

"Oh, Detective, I couldn't live without seeing my reflection at least once an hour," Felix replies, eyes bright with humor.

I hold back a chuckle. "I see."

"You'll quickly learn many of the old legends really are just legend," Nate adds.

"So..." I begin, "no coffins either then, I'm guessing?"

Adam almost chokes in surprise, Felix's laughter growing at the team leader's reaction.

"We tend to prefer a bed over coffins, yes," Nate replies, taking it in better humor than his friend.

"What happens when it comes to religious stuff?" I ask, wondering how to phrase the question. "Holy water? Crosses? That kind of thing."

"It's all very interesting," Felix replies. "But that's about as much notice as we take."

"None of that stuff works?"

"No," Nate says and I notice an amused smile tug at the corner of his lips.

Adam throws a narrow stare in my direction. "Disappointed?"

"No, just curious," I say, and he quickly shifts his focus away.

"No cross-wielding or holy water spraying at Murphy. Got it." I say with a decisive nod.

Felix chuckles, as does Nate.

"Probably a wise idea," Adam replies, a hint of amusement on his tone. "Even if it may make for a memorable scene."

He actually smiles at me then, an expression I can't help but return just because it's so unexpected.

I glance over the group, wondering how my next question will make them react. "Is a stake to the heart the only way to kill vampires?"

Nate's eyes widen before he throws an amused grin over at Adam, who doesn't look nearly as amused by it.

Felix sputters, chuckling. "Planning to get rid of us already, Detective?"

"I thought I should be prepared for Murphy or other vampires."

"That's fair," Nate says. "A stake to the heart would be effective, as would decapitation."

The turn in the conversation makes me shift uncomfortably. "But you can heal from wounds, right?" The memory of seeing it before my own eyes catches me unaware, and I shake it away.

"Yes," He says. "From pretty much all injuries."

"Right..." I reply, unsure what else to say as an uncertainty seems to tingle in the air throughout the room.

"What about garlic?"

"What about it?" Adam asks, and I can't tell if he's joking or being serious.

Nate chuckles. "I quite enjoy it, actually."

"You mean it's not like poison to you guys?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No. Though that's not to say there aren't substances that could incapacitate us--"

"Which you have no need to know of," Adam interrupts, Nate tensing at the interruption.

I shrug. "At least you can still enjoy a nice Bolognese."

Nate gives a laugh along with Felix, but Mason only grimaces at the idea. Adam--I manage to notice--can't help but give a small smile before wiping it from his face.

"What exactly is it that these 'pheromones' you have do?"

Nate shrugs. "They can help us control humans and some other supernaturals. Except you, of course."

"Oh," I say, my voice tense, "is that all?"

Mason draws in a long breath of his cigarette. "It puts those we use them on at ease and makes them very suggestible. Suppose it's a predator thing--easier for us to get a bite." He adds a dark smile to the words.

Nate throws him a warning glare and then looks back to me with a smile. "We have little use of them. The Agency provides us with what we need. The only time we really use them are on mission, and even then we try not to."

Mason and Felix both scoff at that.

I give a slow now, unsure how to feel about the idea...

_Can't really avoid it any longer..._

The obvious question whirls inside my head until I can't contain it. I rub a hand over my arm. "I guess the most important question I should be asking is if you do all actually drink blood?"

The room falls into a horrible quiet, one only broken by my breath which is suddenly a lot sharper than it had been.

"Yes." The simple reply comes from Adam, his voice steady and unwavering, matching the stern stare he has focused on me.

"But not usually directly from humans or anything," Felix interrupts. "The Agency provides blood bags. More for some of us than others. Right, Nate?"

I glance over at Nate, who takes a deep breath. He is obviously trying to remain unaffected by the strange comment.

"It's not just vampires," Mason remarks, breaking the odd air. He cocks his head to one side. "Lots of supernaturals indulge in blood."

"Let's, uh, leave it there for now, shall we?" Nate suggests with a light tone, though his words seem tense.

I nod.

Rolling my lips together, I try to contain my chuckle before I've even asked the question. "I don't get it though."

"What?" Nate asks, frowning.

"Why don't any of you sparkle?" This time the chuckle edges out with the words.

My amusement is joined by Felix who laughs loudly from his place.

The only other reaction I receive is from Mason, who glowers at me with such hostility I'm surprised it's not burning through me.  _There they are; the one who loathes that book series with a passion!_ I'm honestly not that surprised that it's Mason, really.

"Oh, come on," I say in defense, raising my hands. "You can't expect me not to mention it!"

Nate half-smiles, lips pursing. "Feel better for asking?"

"Totally." I smile in return.

"Okay," I say, pushing myself up from the chair. "I better go get ready to leave."

"A lot of stuff to pack, have you?" Felix says with a joking smile.

I shake my head, trying to suppress a smile myself. "I guess I'll be seeing you guys around."

"See you soon, Detective," Nate calls as I turn to leave.

Maybe things will be different this time. Now that I know everything, hopefully the team will be more willing to let me in as we continue working on the case.

I can't help but hope, anyway...


	13. Chapter 12

**_The Next Morning, At the Station_ **

Standing outside the station, I can't help but smile to be back.

The station is cast in a bloom of sunlight which pours through the glass-windowed walls, making everything inside seem to glow. It seems spring is really on its way now, its arrival announced by the few drops of sunshine from the daffodils bursting in the pots outside of the station doors. Even some pink-faced pansies have revealed themselves around the bases of the trees along the street.

It's refreshing to see it all--a burst of color and brightness after the stark coldness of the facility.

Pushing open the doors, I step through and my steps echo in the foyer. I glance up to see Douglas slouched at the front desk, phone in his hand. It suddenly feels like I haven't been away at all.

_At least he wasn't hurt._ I smile at him, glad to see he's obviously fine. No harm done during the fight.

I'd almost forgotten that Douglas had been there on the night of the attack. Seems like another lifetime ago, after everything I've learned since then.

He notices my smile, eyes widening when he sees me. Then he almost falls from his stool in his eagerness to get to me.

"You're here!" He calls, stumbling to a stop in front of me. He blows his bangs out of his face and continues to stare at me.

"Yes, this is where I work, Douglas," I reply, arching a brow.

"I know, yeah." He lets out a strained chuckle. "But like..." He leans in closer. "After what happened."

A shutter runs down my spine. I had been asked--firmly but politely--by the Agency to keep things under wraps. Letting the general public know about supernaturals would only incite panic, especially with one on the loose around Wayhaven. Not only might it endanger humans, but it could seriously endanger supernaturals.

It wasn't like I had much choice but to agree. I'm not sure what half of their agents are capable of, and I don't want to find out the punishment for going against them.

Still, the Agency is right. The real world is bad enough without throwing in the fact that monsters exist. How could anyone get on with normal life knowing something like that? It's better to keep this to a select few who can handle it.

And I have to admit, it's kind of nice being one of the only ones in on it all.  _Not like that was a really surprise._ I'm pretty sure with how easily I accepted Unit Bravo being vampires had a hand into being welcomed with the knowledge of what was really going on.

"Detective?" Douglas asks, bringing me out of the heavy thoughts.

"Sorry." I shake my head. "So about what happened--"

His blue eyes sparkle with excitement, reminding me of the sun reflecting from a lake. He shuffles even closer, so as I have to lean away slightly from his enthusiastic approach. "Agent Sanders told me everything."

_Rebecca has been busy..._ I brush away the thought and focus back on Douglas.

"How you and here team brought down the crazies."

"'The crazies'?" I repeat the words, uncertainty making my voice strained.

He nods. "Yeah, the ones who escaped from the city prison. The ones you fought." His gaze drops before flickering back up, an intensity to his eyes I haven't seen before. "The ones you saved me from. No one's ever done anything like that for me before. You're everything someone like me wants to be."

There's a horrible amount of hero-worship in the kid's words and, couple with his gazing and his hand coming to rest on my arm, it makes me shift on the spot. He's never even paid attention to my commands before, so having his sudden undivided and very closer attention is--well, a little unnerving.

"Detective, there you are."

I've never been so glad to hear Adam's voice. And apparently, neither has Douglas. His gaze shifts from me, growing wider and more shiny as he stares over the team striding through the doors.

"You must be...Unit Bravo..." He says, the words breathless and awed.

The group frowns, glancing at each other uncertainly as they draw to a stop behind me.

Felix is the only one to step forward. "Why, yes we are, Officer Friedman. But we've been here for a while now, you know?"

"Yes, but...I didn't know what you could do then." The team is battered with more dreamy gazes from the young officer.

"With that amount of talent at flattery already," I say, pulling my arm out from beneath his hand, "you'll replace your father in no time."

The comment makes Douglas stiffen, his face contorting into a disgusted frown. "Ugh, I hope not."

_I know that you didn't want to be a politician, Douglas, it's why I said it._ I give a soft laugh. "Then you better work on furthering your career here."

He nods, a sudden determination on his face. "I won't let you down, Detective." Then he strides back to the front desk, enthusiasm almost making him skip.

Nate throws me a confused glance, to which I shrug. "Come on," I say. "Let's get to my office before he attacks us again."

We make it past the front desk and nearly all the way to my office before I hear the familiar 'bleep bloop' of Douglas's phone.

I smile. At least the experience hasn't changed him too much.

Walking to sit behind my desk, my gaze flutters down to something bright and yellow on my keyboard. Tina's handwriting is scrawled over the memo note, which reads: 'Glad you're back. Even more glad I didn't have to sit with you during a stuffy seminar.'

_Guess a cover story has already been found for my absence..._

A smile catches my lips at the note, but I place it back down as Unit Bravo begins to settle into their places around my office.

"We need to go on the offensive with Murphy," Adam says suddenly, voice as strict as his stance. "He'll be desperate to find you now. Especially because he must know that the Agency is on his trail."

Nate nods. "Yes, the general plan is to find him before he finds you, Detective."

"Finding one psycho vampire in this town?" I ask, waving a hand dismissively. "How hard can that be?" Okay, so maybe the sarcastic remark might have done something to settle my nerves about Murphy, though that really should have been an internal thought than a spoken one.

Adam arches a brow. "Are you being serious?"

"No the detective is being sarcastic," Felix replies with a grin. "And I approve."

I give a chuckle. Adam rolls his eyes.

"We'll start at the hospital, as Agent Sanders suggested," Adam says.

"You really think we'll find anything there?" Felix asks with a shrug.

"There must be some reason Murphy impersonated a blood technician." I let out a sharp breath. "And there might be something still there if he hasn't gone back."

The team nod in agreement--all except Mason, who instead sparks up a cigarette, seeming to ignore the general conversation.  _I'm gonna have to get him an ash tray one of these days._ It honestly still surprises me how quickly I got used to him smoking inside my office, now keeping the window constantly cracked so the smoke and smell filter out of the room.

"We should split up: Adam and Felix, Mason and I. Some of us head to the hospital with the detective, while the others check in with the agents posted nearby," Nate suggests, glancing between Adam and I for confirmation.

Adam give a nod as I do. A jolt of confidence strikes through me to finally be fully with the team.

A moment of quiet falls over them, and I realize they're waiting for me to decide who to take to the hospital.

_...Something about the idea of being with Adam and Felix in the hospital really calms me down._

"I suppose Adam and Felix should come to the hospital with me," I say eventually, shifting my coat further around me. I'm glad I hadn't bothered to take it off, since we're heading out again already.

"Can't stay away, eh, Detective?" Felix says with a wink, only to have Adam's hand settle on his shoulder in reprimand.

Nate steps closer, concern lining every feature of his face. "Be careful then. We don't know where Murphy might be lurking."

"Hey," I say lightly, trying to ease some of his unease. "That's why I'm taking backup, right?"

The tension does relax into his smile. "I suppose you're right. But it doesn't hurt to be cautious, all the same."

I give an appreciative nod at his concern before continuing to get ready. My hand falls to my belt, ensuring my gun and pepper spray are firmly secured.

"We'll meet you there, Detective," Adam says, breaking out of conversation with Mason.

I frown. "You don't want to drive together..?" My words trail off as I realize. "Right, you're probably faster than cars."

"Not all car," Felix replies. "Some of those expensive sports ones go seriously fast! Not that I've tried to race them or anything."  _Oh I don't believe that for a second, Felix. You totally raced one, and you most likely made a beat with Mason about it too._

"Then I'll get going and meet you there. I'll wait in the parking lot." I give a nod of farewell and then head out of my office, prepared for the task ahead. Though I swear, I can feel Adam's eyes on my back as I leave.

* * *

**_At the Hospital Parking Lot_ **

After squeezing my car once again between two fancy, pristine, and polished sports cars, I manoeuvre myself out of my door and slam it shut. My car creaks at the harsh action.  _I'm sorry, baby. I'll get you tuned up soon._

Fresh air hits me, and I take a gulp of it. Soon, I know I'll have to descend into the disinfectant lair of the hospital. It's spread out like a flat cream monstrosity amongst a few trees which are attempting to bloom, making the thing look a little less harsh against the landscape.

"Bit of an eyesore, isn't it?" Felix asks, and I whirl around to find the two striding towards me. I'm not sure whether to be impressed or terrified at how quickly they must have gotten here on foot.

Adam glances over the building though I can't see his judgement of it, as his eyes are once more hidden behind aviator sunglasses. "Let's get this over with."

Inside, we pass through the waiting area. The receptionist barely glances up at me with an acknowledging sneer.

Both Adam and Felix shy away from the intense fluorescent light from overhead, preferring to walk along the one wall where the light doesn't hit so much. They don't make conversation as we walk, the silence accentuated by the lack of people in the hospital except for the light footsteps of a couple of nurses who pass us by.

The attention of the staff shift to my colleagues as we go, and I can't really blame them. The strikingly attractive vampires certainly stand out from the usual plain crown of Wayhaven's population.

Adam's nose wrinkles, and his lips turn down the closer we get to the technician's lab. I can't tell whether it's from the clinical smell or if he's just offended at life in general.

"Here we are," I say as we reach the door to the lab. The sign still hangs askew and still says the wrong name.

"Yes," Adam says, shoulders tensing. "I can smell his lingering scent."

I shift a step back from the door, staring at it as though it might leap out at me. "That doesn't sound like a good thing..."

"He's not here anymore, Detective," Adam explains. His words help calm my fear, suddenly recalling how safe I usually feel with Adam at my side.

My uncertainly relaxes and I give a nod, my hand falling to the doorknob to twist it open.

* * *

**_Inside the Lab_ **

Last time I'd been here, the laboratory had been spotless. Now it looks like a crash site: heaps of files strewn on the floor, half-toppled beakers spilling out bright liquid contents on counter tops, and a bottle with something unidentifiable oozing out onto the ground just before out feet.

The only things remaining untouched seem to be the machines around the edges. They're whirring gently to themselves, apparently uncaring whether anyone is around to tend them.

"Guess Murphy really did leave in a hurry..." Felix says, surveying the mess from the doorway.

After scanning the area, I pick my way through the room and head towards the back where the computer sits. The others get to work looking over the rest of the lab.

The machines bleeps to life as I press a few keys on the keyboard, a glow cast from the monitor as the whole thing springs to life. To my amazement, it seems it hasn't been wiped clean. Either Murphy was very confident or very stupid, to leave my potential evidence behind.

My focus shifts for a moment as I notice Adam and Felix begin winding their way through the heap of mess as well.

My attention lingers on Adam, and I find it hard to glance away. He stands near a few broken test tubes, brow knotted in thought.

A flutter makes my stomach lighten as I look over at him, the feeling unexpected. I try my best to ignore it--even if I can't seem to look away.

His shoulders are still tense, the muscles in his back taut beneath the blue t-shirt he's wearing. For a momentary flash, I wonder how it would feel to massage the tension from those broad shoulders.

The thought drifts to getting a chance to truly feel the power and strength the taller male has; to fully understand why just standing beside him makes me feel so warm and safe.

I flinch when he suddenly calls to me.

"Virgil," He says, turning to face me, obviously about to speak when he notices my eyes widen in surprise. "What's wrong?"

"You've never called me by my name before," I explain, feeling a little strange saying it aloud.

He stiffens. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"No, it's fine. It's good." I reply, swallowing down the thrill his use of my name causes. It's hard not to scold myself for getting so worked up over it. "I prefer you call me that."

A smile lifts his lips. "I think using your title would serve us better since we are working together. But I'm glad to know we are on good enough terms for first names--Virgil."

My mind spins a little at the husky tone to his voice as he speaks. I'd never thought much of my name before, but not it's suddenly become the most intense thing in the world.

The heat in the laboratory racks up a few degrees as he continues to hold my gaze, a sudden seriousness in those icy green eyes which makes my breath catch.  _God, I really am attracted to him, but...oh please let him feel the same._ He's never looks at me like that before, and that was a real smile on his lips when he said he was happy we were friendly enough for first names.

"Did you want me to see something?" I ask. My question is blurted through a sharp breath before I am crushed by the weight of the meaningful silence.

He shakes his head as though brought out of a trance. "Right, yes. Of course."

"Yes. What is it? Important?" Now I'm just blabbering.

Adam picks up a nearby test tube--one of the few not smashed to pieces. There is a small piece of cloth swirling around inside, suspended in a clean liquid. "It's yours."

"What?"

"I can smell your blood in this."

I tense, wondering whether to be disgusted or worried. "He must have gotten it when I cut my hand." I rub at my palm. The injury I'd recieved in this very lab had mostly healed.

With more determination, I turn back to the computer to try and find what this vampire's deal is.

"Found anything?" Felix asks as he comes to stand beside me.

I give a shrug in reply then move the mouse, clicking on an unnamed folder on the desktop. Inside the folder is a series of graph-like pictures. Red, blue, and yellow lines arch and dip on the tables. On another page there is a list of codes--also in a variety of colors--next to each other in long rows.

"What are they?" Felix asks, lip curled in confusion.

"Looks like DNA results," I reply, clicking through a few more, all of them different. "Maybe Murphy was looking into the mutation too."

"I recognize those," Felix says, jutting a finger out towards the screen as I click onto some pictures. They resemble abstract art. "It's blood slides. Mind you, I haven't seen blood like that before."

"Let me see," Adam says, stepping up beside up as well. I hear his breath catch when his hand brushes over mine to move the mouse, but I put it from my mind to concentrate fully.

I gesture to some of the bright blobs on the pictures. "There are human blood cells, but I don't know what this is mixed in with it."

Adam's eyes narrow. "It's vampire blood."

"Look at the name of the slide," Felix says, and we all look. 'Janet Greenland.'  _The first murder victim._

Taking control of the mouse, Adam flicks through the other slides. "There are all named after the victims."

"Why do they have vampire blood?" I ask, staring at the screen.

"He must be injecting them with it," Adam says as a theory. "We thought he has experimenting on them. This must be how." He moves away from the desk, rubbing a hand along his jaw.

I turn to face the team leader. "Is he trying to turn them into vampires?"

Felix chuckles, perching on the edge of the desk. "It's a bit more complicated than just dosing someone up with vampire blood."

"Oh." Curiosity prickles at the edge of my mind, but I let it go to focus on the case at hand.

"I'm not even sure what it would do to someone with the mutation," Adam adds, pacing the short length of the room.

Felix folds his arms, glancing back at the monitor. "At least you know now what's in store if he catches you."

"I won't let him get the chance to try anything like that on me..." My words trail as I also look over the screen, the slide still on it.

"Then let's make sure that doesn't happen," Adam says, stepping back towards me.

An uneasiness settles over me at the though of the blood slides and what they could mean. It's a selfish sentiment, but I don't want to die...especially not as some vampire's experiment.

"When it was a human killer we were after, you were more than keen to go after him, but now you know he's a vampire, you're uncertain?" Adam asks, pulling me from my dour thoughts.

"The two are very different," I reply, my tone steady. "Aren't you worried even a little?"

He takes a long breath and folds his arms, gaze unmoving from mine. "I've lived through many things, Detective: plagues, wars, disasters. It will take more than one vampire to scare me." Then he gives a half-smile.

"Are you actually joking?"

Felix arches a brow. "It's a rarity for our leader, but it does happen sometimes." I give a chuckle. Adam's amused smile quickly fades at the younger agent's jibe.

"We should get agents in to take the computer. Have the lab look over it and see what more they can get from it," Adam suggests.

I give a nod. "Then we can meet the others back at the station and let them know what we found."

Adam steps away to make the call, Felix hanging around beside me as we wait.

"You're really settling into this team, you know," He says, giving me a grin before marching away towards the door.

I watch him go, then glance over at Adam. I wonder if it's a good thing to be 'settling into' anything with a group of vampires.


	14. Chapter 13

**_Later That Day, Back at the Station_ **

The rest of the day is spent getting back on top of work. Even if not much happens in Wayhaven, it seems that the paperwork creates piles on my desk out of nowhere.

Unit Bravo had headed out to help the other agents pack up everything from Murphy's lab, and it's not until I'm just thinking about leaving that they return.

"Ready to head home?" Nate asks as he strides through the doorway, ducking a little to avoid hitting his head on the top of the door frame.

"Yeah, just about," I reply, slamming shut the drawer to my desk where I'd hidden some of my memos. They're mostly from the mayor wanting an update on the case--something that can wait until I'm more settled tomorrow and have actually thought of what to say.

Felix bustles past Nate and smiles. "Hope you've got enough room for all of us."

I try to stifle a groan, remembering I'd agreed to the vampires playing guard over me at home as well. To be fair, I'd been pretty out of it on pain medication for my head wound at the time, and Rebecca was obviously keen to take advantage of that.

Oh, well. Nothing I can really do about it now, and I know my mother had only asked when I was hopped up on medication because I might have said no; not because I would be uncomfortable with four attractive men in my home alone with me, but because I just know how small my home actually is.

Standing from my chair, I begin packing up my things with a smile. "It'll be nice to have some company."

"Don't get much usually then?" Mason remarks with a smirk.

I purse my lips to ignore the comment. "I'm sure we'll all manage to fit in somehow."

Nate smiles warmly. "Most definitely."

My computer hushes its loud droning as I turn it off, and I make to grab my jacket. "Ready to go?"

They all nod, and we make to leave. Passing the front desk, I nod a goodbye to the night shift volunteer, who returns the gesture. Then the group of us head outside, where the sun guides out way in a cocktail palette of pinks and yellows.

* * *

**_At the Apartment Block_ **

I walk up the stairs, followed by the imposing team of Unit Bravo. It's nice to be coming home.

The apartment block is comfortably quiet, compared to the stark quiet of the facility. Birds chirp outside, their songs whistling in through the windows which line the stairwell, and the evening sun glitters through the recently washed glass.

The gentle thumps of people moving in their apartments is an odd comfort too. The lazy sound of music pervades into the hallway from one of my neighbor's rooms.

I draw to a stop outside my door, my key already in hand. Pushing it into the lock and turning it, I can't help a strange sensation washing over me. This apartment is part of my world.

Inviting these four vampires in will be like the supernatural finally invading the last space of normality that I have left.  _But...them being at my side feels normal too..._

I shake the feeling away, realizing that now I know the truth, it's unlikely I'll ever be able to keep the supernatural fully out of my life. "Here we are," I say as I unlock the door, letting it swing open to reveal my small apartment inside.

Felix steps up beside me, his gaze casting over the space like a health inspector over a restaurant. "You haven't lived here long, I take it?"

"Years. Why?"

"And you haven't done anything to all of this..." He stares at me, nose crinkled in confusion and a hand waving about the room. "...This blandness?"

I roll my eyes. "My job keeps me pretty busy. Interior decorating isn't high on my list of priorities."

"It really should be," Felix scoffs.

"Felix, enough..." Nate says behind him in warning.

"Just saying what I see," Felix replies before moving into the open--if somewhat basic--apartment, still glancing about the room with a shake of his head.

"It's all that's needed," Adam says," I think it's a perfectly acceptable accommodation."

I'm not sure whether to smile or frown at that.

The rest of us step through the doorway moments later, and I shut the door when they're all inside.

As we huddle inside the cramps space, I suddenly wonder where I'm going to put them all.

"Someone can probably sleep on the sofa. The rest might be able--"

Nate interrupts me before I have to think of more makeshift beds. "It's alright, Detective. We can go for days without sleep. We'll likely be up all night keeping watch."

"Well," I say, rubbing a hand up my arm, "if you're certain."

He nods. "Very much so."

I try not to let my relief show too much. "Then at least there are enough chairs."

The group quickly begin to take up places throughout the apartment's living room. Felix flops into an armchair, legs and arms splayed over it; Mason leans against a side dresser looking surprisingly at ease. His thumb flicks open a lighter and then closes it again before repeating the action over and over.

Nate stands near the centre, running a hand through his hair, a tightness straining his jaw. Adam moves towards the wide window on one side before sliding his gaze over the rest of the room and to the front door. I can almost see the cogs whirring in his mind about how to defend the area.

It's a sudden reminder of my first meeting with the team--when they'd all just about managed to fit into my office during introductions. "This is just like the first time I met you all."

They glance at me in confusion.

"When you all came to my office."

"Oh right," Felix says with a nod, barely paying attention. "You meant that first meeting."

I arch a brow. "What other first meeting could I have meant?"

Felix's attention turns fully to me, a slow grin forming wide on his face. I notice Adam and Nate share a quick tense look before stepping forward. Felix speaks before they intervene. "How about the time you shot our almighty leader?"

My hands tense at my sides.  _When I shot Adam? What?_

It's difficult to shake away such an accusation. I plant my feet firmly to the ground and frown. "I've never shot Adam!"

Adam's face contorts into a strange expression, but my inspection is thrown off as a laugh erupts from Felix. He almost topples from the chair in his amusement.

"This is getting better and better." Felix calms enough to look at me again. "But you honestly don't remember? Did we make that little of an impression, Detective, when we bumped into you outside of that warehouse?"

Adam groans. Loudly. Then he proceeds to rub his hands over his face.

"What warehouse?" I ask, trying to make sense of this whole situation.

Felix leans forward, grinning even further--if that's actually possible. "Come on, Detective. It was dark, there was a bad guy, a fight..."

"A fight? What are you--" My words snap to a stop as I realize just exactly what he's talking about.  _Which makes even more sense now because I came across a bunch of vampires! I knew I was fucking right when I thought they were vampires and that I had actually shot Adam! I knew his voice sounded familiar!_ "So that you was at the warehouse! Jeez, I knew it!"

"Yes it was," Adam replies firmly. "It was before we knew it was you who would be our next assignment. A regrettable time for us all, I'm sure." There's bite to his tone which gnaws against me. I did actually feel kinda bad when I had shot him at the time, not wanting to hurt a stranger without good reason.

I chew at my lower lip, glancing away for a moment before eventually daring a look over at Adam. "I hope it didn't hurt too much. Sorry."

Adam raises a brow in apparent confusion, then gives a small nod. "It healed quick enough. But I appreciate your concern."

"That was much more civil than I'd hope for." Felix sighs and flops back in the chair once again. "I suppose it must mean that you like us, right?" Some of the enthusiasm returns to his voice.

The question makes me pause.  _...Heh. I honestly doubt I could ever not like them._ Ever since they've entered my life, yeah it's been hectic as all hell, but it's honestly been the best time I can remember. Plus, I've always been fond of them all from the start, even Mason; they've been the highlight of my life, and I wouldn't change that for the world.

I shake my head but look towards Felix with a bright smile. "How could I not help but like you all?"

"Ha! I knew it," Felix replies. He glances about at the rest of the team, who barely seem to be listening. "We're goddamn adorable."

Mason almost chokes, and Felix smirks.

"So what are we doing now?" Mason asks, seeming to want to quickly change the subject.

"You carry on as you normally would, "Nate says to me. "We'll spread out about the apartment and keep watch."

"That's it?" I ask, unable to keep the uncertainty from my voice.

He nods. "That's it."

"If Murphy tries to make a move, we'll be ready," Adam adds.

I suppress a shudder at the idea of my home being invaded my Murphy or those thrall things. "Then I'll go get ready for bed. See you guys in the morning."

Almost against my will, my gaze slides over towards Adam.

Thoughts of our time together invade my mind for a moment, like hail against a window. I push them away--uncertain why they should spring up right now--though they're almost forced back into my forethoughts once again when Adam shifts around and meets my eyes.

The icy green eyes that exude such calmness also hold a terrifying amount of depth to them. My breath turns shallow, and I feel like I'm drowning in his gaze. A tidal wave of uncertain emotions crash inside of my chest.

He snaps his focus away to the window and before I do the same, I notice him swallow hard. I frown tightens on his brow.

Turning, I quickly move into my bedroom, trying to ignore the strange stir of feelings.

* * *

**_A While Later, in the Shower_ **

It's easy to forget the luxury of a simple shower. Sure, they had showers at the facility, but it's this one I needed. My own shower.

I smile.  _It's good to be home._

I let the hot water pummel over my skin, drowning away my thoughts in the steam and scent of shower gel. The fog of heat almost blinds me, but I continue to stand and enjoy soaking in the water.

The jets pound against my tense muscles like a well-needed massage. I sigh into it, reluctant to get out. But eventually, I clamber out and head back into my bedroom to dress.

A few minutes after I've dressed, there's a knock on the door.

"Come in."

Felix opens the door with a friendly smile. "Detective."

"Something wrong?" I ask, the welcome ease to my muscles now twining with sudden tension.

Felix holds up his hands and shakes his head. "No, just came to see you."

"Okay," I reply. When he continues to linger by the doorway, I nod my head towards the bed, indicating he should sit. "What's up?"

Felix shuffles forward and drops onto the bed, the mattress sinking as he does. "It's not exactly been an easy ride the past few days. I just wanted to see...how you were doing?" It's the first time I think I've ever heard him so genuinely concerned.

"Me?" I ask, placing a hand on my own chest in mock surprise and rolling my eyes. "Oh please. I am the master of ignoring problems until I don't actually have to think about how I feel about them."

Felix snorts a laugh. "Well, at least you're still mostly alright then."

The smile tightens, a frown forming between his thick brows. "I've seen some humans go doolally after having the supernatural world shoved in their face."

He tugs his hat off his head and chucks it into the air and then catches it, swiftly repeating the action. "Most don't even wanna work with us after finding out."

There's a sting to his voice that's hard to miss, even as he tries to hide it by concentrating on his hat.

"You've had other people find out about you before?"

"Not normal people like you," He replies. "Agents--human ones--who'd rather be partnered with demons than vampires." The hat flops in his stilled grasp. "Thanks for, you know, sticking around."

_Yeah, well most people are idiots if they aren't willing to try and work with you._ The gratitude forces a smile from me. "You're welcome. Thanks for checking in on me."

"Anytime, Detective," He says, flashing a charming grin--any remaining seriousness quickly vanishing. He yanks his floppy hat back on before standing up and heading back into the living room.

Moonlight refracts through my room, the light so soft that I'm reluctant to shut it out as I snap the curtains closed. The silver light is replaced with a harsher yellow one emanating from my bedside lamp.

I clamber into bed, flopping down with my back to the mattress and tugging the duvet up tight around me. The deep shadows cast on my ceiling seem darker than they used to.

Still, at least I have the thought that if the closet monster decides on now of all times to make an appearance, then I have four vampires in the next room ready to help me take it down. The thought pulls a strained laugh from me which permeates the quiet, although I'm unsure quiet how to feel about it.

They're actually vampires--real vampires. I've known that for a while now, but still it's just almost too much to believe.

And not only vampires exist, but demons too, and I've seen a couple of imp agents at the facility.

My mind whirls with the possibility of what else might be out there...

The thought invades my mind and swirls in it like a sock in a washing machine until I can't stand it any longer.

I tug down the duvet and stare at the door. "So if vampires exist, then what else?" I call loudly. "Werewolves?"

"Yes, werewolves exist," I hear Nate call back from the other room, his voice clear even through the wooden barrier.

I purse my lips in thought. "What about witches?"

"Yep," Felix says.

"Ghosts?"

"Yes."

"Fairies?"

"Yes."

"Unicorns?"

"Unicorns? Seriously?!" Mason barks from the other room.

The stiff reply makes me chuckle.

"I wish unicorns were real..." Felix's voice draws out in disappointment.

"Maybe they are, and they just haven't been found yet. You never know," Nate adds.

"For crying out loud..." Adam lets out a groan loud enough to hear through the door. "Just go to sleep!"

I can't even get angry at his command as I continue to laugh quietly. Eventually I do settle down, a smile fixed in place on my face as I finally drift off into sleep.


	15. Chapter 14

**_Some Days Later, at Haley's Bakery_ **

A pretty uneventful week later, I find myself seated beside Nate at the large, oak table which fills the middle of Haley's Bakery. She doesn't like small tables, instead wanting to encourage everyone to sit together at the one massive wooden one.

It works sometimes, when it's very busy, but not this early in the morning.

Only one other couple sit at the table, down at the other end. They're partly obscured by the large peony and rose flower arrangement that separates the two sides. The elegant lady to the left leans down to offer her empty plate to her poofy-haired little dog, who snuffles up the crumbs without a second thought.

My focus is consumed by the happy little scene, my mind drifting easily under the wafting scent of fresh-baked bread. The aroma lets me wake, still half-dozy in this early morning, as warmly as the morning sun would have if I'd stayed in bed.

Eventually I return my attention to my breakfast partner. Nate bites into his blueberry muffin, and his eyes flutter shut to enjoy the flavor.

I frown. "You can eat--" I choke on the question, glancing at the nearby couple. Then I lean towards Nate and whisper, "You can eat actual food, then?"

He smiles and nods, wiping a few stray crumbs from his lip with his thumb. "Yes. We can digest it just fine as long as we're sustained on..." He hesitates, chewing over the next word as much as he'd done so with the muffin.

"...On our other dietary needs," He eventually continues. "I like the taste of real food, but the flavors and sensations can be too overwhelming for some vampires' senses. All they can taste are the separate ingredients, rather than the whole thing. It takes some practice to calm out hyper senses into relaxing enough to enjoy the experience."

I nod at the explanation, staring down at my half-eaten pastry with new appreciation.

Wooden chairs squeak across the flagstone floor as the other couple gets up to leave. They smile at us as they go before continuing out of the shop.

Their dog suddenly flings her fluffy head in Nate's direction. Nate's perpetual calm smile widens, and he begins to make kissy noises at the dog.

The little dog's tail wags in a frantic response; she barks excitedly, her tongue flopping out of the side of her mouth. The couple encourage the dog to follow them out, and she reluctantly does.

I arch a brow over at Nate, who is still looking after the dog with a smile. The scene isn't exactly something I'd ever picture when thinking 'vampire'.

"How have you been finding it?" Nate asks suddenly, sliding in his chair to face me.

I pick at my pastry, savoring the butter taste on my tongue. "What do you mean?"

"Well, we've barely left your side for the past week--not at work or home. Even if we're only trying to help protect you, I'm worried we might be pushing our welcome."

It's true. Unit Bravo has stuck around like bees with honey. Their presence has afforded a certain amount of confidence, and they have been extremely helpful in the case--not that we've been able to progress far in finding Murphy's location.

This morning it is Nate's turn to babysit me, and at least he's been decent enough to buy me breakfast.

"Don't worry," I say, smiling over at him. "I like having all of you around."

"All of us?" Nate asks with an arched brow. "I can't see Mason being many people's favorite house guest."

I chuckle. "Yeah, true. But still it's nice to have the company."

"I'm glad you feel that way," He replies, suddenly cheerful. "It's been good for us to work with you, Detective. The team seems to have awoken since you've been around--a waking up we've needed to have kicked into us for some time now."

There's a heavy meaning to those words, one which Nate doesn't elaborate on. Instead, he goes back to enjoying his breakfast.

The conversation is halted by the tinkling of the bell above the door. The ringing echoes about the shot, announcing the arrival of the rest of Unit Bravo.

The team move to sit around the table--well, slouch about it--with Felix and Mason flopping into chairs next to each other. Adam remains standing, sunglasses hiding his expression.

"Ah, we were just talking about you," Nate says, throwing me a knowing smile.

"Oh?" Felix says, leaning forwards and raising his brow expectantly. "All good things, obviously."

"What's wrong?" I ask Adam. The man is even more tense than usual, his grey coat nearly bunched up around his ears where his shoulders are so knotted together.

"I don't like the quiet," He replies. "We haven't heard a thing from or about Murphy for over a week. I cannot believe he's simply sitting around doing nothing now that he knows who you are."

"Wherever he is and whatever he's doing, we'll be ready when he strikes," I say, voice full of confidence.

Adam cocks a brow and folds his arms. "You seem awfully sure of yourself, Detective."

"If you're not sure of yourself, then why are you even here protecting me?" I ask, holding his stare.  _Don't doubt yourself now just because there's been no news, Adam._

Felix speaks up. "That's a good point--"

"I get it," Adam barks, interrupting Felix. The younger agent grins at the tense tone of his team leader's voice.

Footsteps shuffle loudly from behind us, and Haley appears at the side of the table with a smile as bright as the sun outside. "Anything I can get you?"

Felix instantly adopts a charming grin, full lips framing his white teeth and eyes glimmering like actual gems. "What are you offering?"

Haley's already pink cheeks flush deeper, the color seeming to want to leak into her pale hair hidden under her usual baker's hat. "Oh, well--I..." The poor woman stammers at the undeniably attractive sight of Felix, whose smile only widens at her flustered response.

"We're just fine, thank you," Nate interrupts, gently kicking Felix under the table. The younger agent's charm falters at the sudden pain.

"Oh, good. That's good..." Haley stutters, throwing me an awkward smile before puttering back behind the counter. Being around the team for as long as I have, I've forgotten the effect they even had on me when I first met them.  _...Okay, that's a straight up lie, but I think I've slowly just gotten used to it._ Was that even possible?

"We should check on the thralls," Mason says, having ignored the scene. He glances at the time on his plain black cell phone.

"Good idea," Adam say.

"I'll go too," I say, standing from my place and brushing off any lingering crumbs. "I'd like to learn more about these thralls."

The only evidence of annoyance from Mason is the shudder of the unlit cigarette he has balanced in his mouth. Even that stops when Adam gives a soft nod over at him.

"Fine," Mason spurts, eventually yanking the cigarette out. "We'll take your car. I don't fancy waiting around for you to arrive." And then he heads out without bothering to wait for me to collect up my things.

* * *

**_In the Forest, surrounding a Group of Houses_ **

As I step out of the car, my shoe squelches on the leaf-carpeted ground. The forest is wet, even though there's been dry weather for days. Drops of dew still weigh down the scanty leaves, sparkling like diamonds in the foggy speckles of sun filtering through the heavy ceiling of branches.

Mason gets out, slamming the door of my poor little car with enough force that I worry it might come off the hinges. "Hey, be careful!" I protest.

Mason eyes the car. "I think you're long past careful with this thing."

The silver vehicle creaks as though in pathetic protest.

The two of us begin to trek to the edge of the trees. Mud-brown trunks rise out of the ground like fingers from the palm of a moss-covered hand.

Mason brushes aside a prickly branch of a bush from our path, letting it swing back immediately after he passes. It almost slaps me in the face as I walk behind him.

Even with the wetness clinging to my shoes, it's nice to be out in the real fresh air. There's even the chorus of a few squirrels skittering about looking for food after their long winter sleep. Barely any birds are singing though, I notice.

"Here," Mason says, drawing to a stop at the very edge of the forest before the trees give way to manicured lawn. I shuffle up beside him and squint down the slight hill. There's a bundle of white houses gathered together on the far side of the green space.

"I thought we were going to check on thralls?" I ask. I'd thought we'd be heading to the facility to talk with the thralls they had captured the night of the fight.

"We are. They're down there." Mason juts his chin forward to gesture at the houses.

"What?"

"The thralls that attacked that night are controlled by Murphy," Mason explains, more calmly than I would have expected. His focus shifts from staring down at the small suburb. "When a vampire makes thralls, they can only use them when they're strong enough. At night."

"Can you make thralls?" I ask casually.

He scoffs, as though the question is ridiculous. "No. I was turned from being a human. Only natural vampires from the Echo World can make thralls."

"Natural vampires?"

Mason eyes me for a moment, then seems to relent against my curiosity. "Supernaturals who come through from the Echo World are 'natural' supernaturals, but humans can be turned by them and become 'human-born' supernaturals."

He shifts uneasily, then straightens himself out. "There's differences between the two types: what they can do and shit like that." I can tell that talking about this is what's making him uncomfortable, but I'd rather know as much as I can now so I don't have to bring it up in a future conversation.

"And you're 'human-born'?"

He nods. "Felix is the only one of us that's from the Echo World."

That nugget of information makes my eyes widen. "Wait, Felix isn't--I mean wasn't--ever human?"

"Jeez, I'm not going to discuss Felix's life story with you." He half-hisses the words, apparently regretting revealing something that seems rather personal about a teammate. "You wanna do that? Take it up with him. I'm here to do a goddamn job, so can we just get on with it?"

I cock my head to one side at the defensiveness in Mason's tone. It's something he doesn't hold back when speaking about any member of Unit Bravo.  _I can't tell if he's extremely loyal, or just as protective about the team as Adam is._

Returning to the task at hand, I look back towards the houses. "So what happens to these thralls during the day?"

Calming his raised hackles, Mason gives a shrug. "They revert back to human, with no clue about what they are or what they've done. The Agency likes to keep it that way."

"I bet the Agency likes to keep a lot of things that way..." I mutter.

Mason snorts a tense laugh. "You have no idea."

"I'm beginning to," I reply, glancing over at him.

"Yeah, I bet you are." He thins his lips. "The Agency would put secrecy before pretty much anything."

The words sound less like a statement and more of a warning, but Mason turns his focus back to the houses without saying anything more on it. Even if he and I aren't that close, I can tell from those words that he does worry about me; maybe not as much as his fellow vampires, but enough to warn me to be careful, which was sweet.

"And what about their chanting?" I ask to fill the quiet.

"It's the command they're given. They repeat it to keep it in their thick skulls, I suppose," He says, fishing a cigarette out of his pocket. He lights it a moment later, smoke mingling with the slight fog that hangs drowsily amongst the trees.

My phone vibrates in my jacket pocket and I yank it out, moving a few paces away from Mason to answer is. "Detective Sanders."

"Hey, Virgil," Tina says from the other end, her voice adding a little brightness to the dew-soaked trees. "How's it going?"

I glance over at Mason, who is leaning against a tree and puffing out another stream of smoke. "I've had better days. What's up?"

"I was just ringing 'case my shift has ended, and I'm off for the weekend," She says.

I flick a nearby branch with my fingers and sigh. "Trying to make me jealous of your free time?"

"No, but it's a bonus if I have," She chuckles. "I was ringing because I have a message, and I didn't want Douglas to forget to give it to you."

I nod. It's a fair assumption that he would.

"Mind you, he's been a bit...keen on you lately. Asking when you and your gorgeous team will be back all the time." I can almost hear the grimace she's making. "Did you do something?"

"It's nothing," I sputter. "What message was it?"

"Oh right." A shuffle of paper sounds from the other end. "Bobby rang. He was looking for you. He also seems to have a keen interest in your new team. Just fishing for information, I expect, don't worry."

I rub a hand over the back of my neck. "Great..."

"Well, have a good weekend," She chimes. "I'm certainly going to!"

I let out a soft laugh and hang up as she does.

Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I trudge back towards Mason.

"Does it ever get warm in this town?" He remarks, tugging on his coat--a thick leather garment that looks more like a biker's jacket than anything else, just missing the studs and emblem.

"It is early spring," I point out, glancing about the bare trees. It still smells like winter: damp and cold. But a couple of the trees have a few pops of green. It'll only be a couple of weeks until they burst into full bloom at the sun's gentle urging.

Mason grips his cigarette tightly between his teeth. "Bloody hell, I can't even feel my feet now."

I roll my eyes at his moaning, realizing it's going to be a long afternoon.


	16. Chapter 15

**_The Weekend, at Home_ **

It's nice to be home for the weekend. It's a much-needed break after everything that's been going on, even if I am still on call. Unfortunately, having Unit Bravo still pacing around my apartment like guards atop a fortress wall doesn't exactly make it easy to relax.

"Something wrong?" Rebecca asks. She straightens out my duvet and takes a seat on the bed.

Rain beats hard against my bedroom windows. The droplets are so thick they blur the outside world like some kind of dream.

"No," I reply, tearing my focus away from the window and looking to her. "Though I am wondering why you're here? I'd like to think it was just a social call, but..."

She smiles as I let my words trail off. "Actually, I am just here to see you. To check on how you're doing."

"How I'm doing?" I walk across my room towards her.

"You've had a lot to handle lately," She says, voice soothing and soft. "We're all concerned about how you're doing now."

"Oh, I'm just dandy," I reply, throwing my hands into the air. "Vampires are real, the supernatural is real, and my town seems to be crawling with them." Rebecca's chuckle in response makes me arch a brow.

"At least you are keeping good humor about it," She says, to which I fold my arms. "The supernatural is something that has always existed. You finding out about it just means you are more aware, nothing more. Trust the Agency to do their job--this is what we deal with every day."

She stands from the bed and begins to head out. But her footsteps pause at the exit to my room, her head hanging slightly. She suddenly leans against the doorway with an uncertain weight on her shoulders. "You are my son, and I love you. If anything happened..."

The words fall into a chokes stop, the emotion unexpected for us both. She quickly shakes her head and turns back for the door.

_...Nope, I'm too much of a mamma's boy to let that slide._ Watching her leave, pain streaks across my chest. I spring from the bed and rush towards her.

"What on--" She begins. Then her voice catches as my arms embrace her.

She turns slowly around in my hug to face me, eyes glimmering for a moment in the rain-dampened daylight that finds its way into the room. Then she smiles, but it's not just any smile. It's a gentle expression that has my head whirling back into my childhood.

She used to look at me that way when I was young, when something scared me or something was wrong. It was our secret smile--one she only used when she was going to make everything okay.

The sudden jolt back into my memories makes me waver slightly, and she holds me closer.

"I love you. I always will. Never forget that, Virgil," She whispers, running a gentle hand over my back.

We pull away from each other, and she smiles brightly as she leaves.

The conversation replays in my head, so I move to the window and throw it open. The chill wind whips against my face, refreshing and cold: just what I needed.

Rain continues to splash against the glass, the window panes foggy from having the sudden cold against them. Droplets dribble lazily down before falling from the bottom of the frame. I watch their descent as they crash into the puddles on the street below, creating ripples in the small pools that are growing on the concrete.

I let out a half-chuckle, realizing the scene is exactly like my life right now. Unit Bravo walked into my life like a storm, and they're creating unending ripples throughout my once-peaceful life.

At least it's easier working with them now that everything is out in the open. Maybe I'm gradually coming to understand it all better--and to understand them better.

Thinking about the team has my mind wandering to a certain member, something that seems to be happening more and more of late.

Adam and I have grown...closer, if that's what you can call it. It seems more like I'm drawn to him than anything else--a sensation that leaves me stumbling at times. Even more so when I'm unsure if it is the same for him.

I'm sure there have been times when he's been so close to...

_To what?_ I frown, quickly interrupting that train of thought.  _And why does it matter?_ It's hard to ignore the other voice telling me I know exactly why it matters.

Pushing the idea away, I tun my face back to the open window, enjoying the freshness that splatters over me from the rain. It certainly shocks my body into thinking logically about the situation.

When you throw a group of people together, it's not wholly strange for these types of attachments to form. Maybe it would be good to see if it ever might lead somewhere.

But...with who?

We've connected a few times and--for all his brooding and ego--there's still something about Adam that pulls me towards him each time. Maybe under that icy exterior, there is a warmth beneath. The idea seems unlikely, but I can't help thinking of it with a small bubble of hope.

Letting out a sigh, I rub a hand over the back of my neck, unsure if realizing any of this will actually affect anything anyway.

The aroma from the ancient potpourri on my side table wafts towards the open window. I inhale the apple scent to help settle my flurried mind.

Well, whatever I think or feel, it doesn't matter for now. There's way too much going on for me to really think about anything serious...and he'll probably be leaving when this is all over anyway.

The heavy thought--which affect me more than I would care to admit--is interrupted by a sharp knock on the open door.

I turn away from the window to see who it is, awkwardly clearing my throat when I see it's Adam looming through the doorway.

"May I come in?" He asks, hands clasped behind his stiff back.

I nod. "Something wrong?"

"No," He replies, stepping inside. "Actually, it may be good news for a change."

Raising my brows, I lean back against the windowsill and wait for him to continue.

"Agent Sanders believes the lab is close to finding out more of Murphy's purpose from the slides frond at the hospital."

"That is good news," I say in agreement.

My previous thoughts of him suddenly add a heaviness to the air, and I glance away.

I shift on the spot, the motion more pronounced when Adam strides across the room to stand beside me. Though I want to blame the cool breeze for my sudden goosebumps, I know the real reason behind them.

"We'll catch him." There is so much determination in his voice that I don't think I could do anything but believe him. "He won't get a chance to hurt you."

Tilting my head around to meet his eye completely, I give a small smile. "I believe you."

Obvious surprise catches his handsome features before the expression softens, his green eyes the clearest I have ever seen them since meeting him. "Your belief in me is more welcome than you could know."

The dim light continues to play across his face, and it's a hard task to concentrate on anything other than him.

Words force their way from my mouth to break the tension that crackles around us. "Adam--"

He suddenly frowns, as though just realizing something. His gaze shifts to the open window before meeting mine once again, but this time his eyes have their usual piercing hardness.

"I should check on the progress with Agent Sanders." And then he whips around and takes a step away.  _No! Don't leave!_ Not after letting me clearly see you for the first time; not after letting me clearly see how much you truly care about me.

As he makes to walk away, my hand whips forward to catch his wrist. The touch makes him spin back around and stumble towards me in obvious surprise. My hands end up spreading over his chest to keep him steady.

A few moments pass, and I realize his own hands are hovering around my hips. I bite my lip to stop the intense want for him to take them. Whatever I had thought I was going to say is suddenly wiped from my mind by the look of not only surprise on his face...but anticipation.

He swallows hard, his gaze dancing over my face before falling to my lips. I let out a sharp breath in response.

Raindrops hammer against the window as he stares at me, and I hope the sound of them is enough to mask the crashing of my heart in my chest as it drums against my ribs.

_Adam... Kiss me, please..._ I almost want to say the words in my mind as I faintly pick up how fast his own heart is beating under my fingers.

Another sound cuts through the moment with unexpected force, and Adam pushes away from me as the doorbell rings out around the apartment.

"I'll get it," Felix calls from the other room.

Neither Adam nor I seem to pay attention. We're still staring at each other, a gap now firmly between us as he takes another step away.

And I almost desperately want him to come back, grasp onto my hips tightly, and kiss me.


	17. Chapter 16

With all my senses seemingly captured by Adam, it's a few moments before I realized there's more noise coming from the living room.

I snap back to reality when Felix yells, "What the hell?!"

Adam frowns, spinning on the spot and moving towards the doorway. I instantly make to follow.

There's a light clicking sound from the other room before a loud pop follows.

Then come the yells.

"It's DMB!" Felix shouts.

"What?" Nate calls. "That's not possible! Only the Agency are allowed to access to it--ack!" A hacking cough cuts through his words.

Adam tenses, standing stiff in the doorway.

"And there's thralls! In the daytime!" Comes Felix's call again. "That's impossible too, right?"

"Let's focus on what's happening, not on what is suppose to be impossible!" My mother's voice rings out, commanding, from the other room. "Cover your mouths! Try not to let it enter your system!"

I run the last few feet. My expression matches Adam's as I stumble to a stop and stare over the scene, my eyes wide and mouth agape.

My living room is smothered in blood-red smoke. It seems to gleam and glitter in the dull light--unlike any smoke I've ever seen.

It creeps from the living room and begins spilling into the bedroom. Adam stumbles back from it, uncertainty and fear cracking through his usual expressionless mask.

"What is it?" I call over the sounds of scuffling in the living room.

"Virgil, where are you?" Rebecca shouts from the thick, shimmering plume. Her slim hand emerges from the could, and Adam steps into the cloud for a moment to yank her forward. Both of them stumble back into the clearer air of my bedroom.

"Our team..." Adam begins, true concern making his voice waver.

"The DMB got them, but they're alive." She spares me only a glance before staring at Adam, her elegant features stiff and hard. "I will hold the thralls back and try to help the others. You have to get my son out of here!"

A loud thump sounds from the fog, followed by a groan. We all take a wide step back as the smoke crawls through the doorway.

I whip my head around to face her. "I'm not leaving the team! Don't be ridiculous!"

She smiles, but it fades as quickly as it came. "I'm going to help them." She places a hand on mine. "But I won't risk Murphy hurting you."

My eyes remain on hers, the deep brown of them suddenly warm but pleading. "No, I'm staying. Like they'd stay for me."

"I agree. I won't leave you." Adam stand solidly beside me.

His words only make her smile return for a moment before it quickly drops. "You don't have a choice. It's an order, Commanding Agent du Mortain."

Adam's shoulders drop in almost instant defeat. His fingers then wrap around my arm, and he pulls me towards the window and the fire escape. "We have to go."

I try to pull away, but his grip--though surprisingly gentle--doesn't budge. "Let go of me!"

"Keep him safe," My mother calls, offering me a final smile...and then she disappears back into the cloud.

Adam guides me to the window. I clamber out, knowing I wouldn't be able to get past him.

We head down the ladder, my fingers unsteady on the rungs. My head is filled with thoughts of what is happening back at the apartment.

* * *

**_In the Parking Lot_ **

Rain lashes against us, heavy droplets stinging against my skin with its chill and force. But I follow Adam through the empty parking lot.

Orange street lamps flicker to life in the day's gloom as we sprint past, seeming to frantically light our way. Trees lie on the far side through the distorted grey haze, like ghosts in a fog.

I drag Adam to a sudden stop. "What the hell was all of that? What is DMB? Why are there thralls? I thought they could only be around at night?!"

"We don't have time for--"

"Make time!"

His expression pinches in annoyance before he lets out a groan and drops his gaze to the floor. "The thralls shouldn't be here. I have no idea how that happened."

His words are slower than usual, his breathing slightly labored. "DMB stands for Dead Man's Blood. It's a substance that acts like a poison to us."

My back snaps taut. "Poison?"

"It incapacitates us. Supernaturals, particularly vampires." He runs a hand over the back of his neck. "But the Agency are the only ones allowed to use it. No one should have access to it, so the fact that Murphy's got hold of it..."

I shake my head, trying to process all of the information. Water flicks in all directions with the motion. Suddenly, I recall Adam's words back in the common room in the facility when I asked about poisons and ways to kill vampires; then I notice how he's been behaving these last few minutes and get filled with too much worry. "Did the DMB get to you?"

"We need to get you out of here," Adam says, avoiding a reply.  _Which means it did...fucking goddamn it._  He has to yell over the downpour that hammers onto the slick ocean of concrete.

He marches towards me, closing the gap between us. "You have to take your can and leave. I will try to fend off any pursuers."

"What?" The word is almost drowned by the rain.

He takes my shoulders in his hands, staring at me with a focused gaze. "You need to go."

"I'm not leaving you, Adam!" I stand my ground, just as determined as he is.

He flinches a little and then steps even closer, his sudden proximity making my breath catch. "You have to."

I place a hand on his chest, and his heart beats beneath my fingers, steady and strong. My nerves settle at the feel of it. "No, I can't--"

He suddenly draws me forward to cut off my protest, glaring at me, his jaw set tightly. "I won't risk losing you!"

My eyes widen and I stare at him, unable to think of anything else but those words. "What?"

He stiffens, fingers tense against me. I can almost see the crack in his usually emotionless wall rebuild--face taut and eyes hardening.  _...Say it one more time, Adam. Please._

"How very touching."

We both whirl around at the voice, watching as Murphy strolls towards us with a smirk.

Adam's hands drop from my shoulders, and he takes a wide step in front of me.

"You took your time getting here." Murphy's voice echoes through the rain as through it dances off the droplets, reverberating through the damp with ease. The man steps further out from around my car, wiggling the tie around his neck further up his off-white shirt even though his whole grey suit is completely drenched. His black hair is slicked to his pale skin.

Bus his eyes manage to pierce out through the gloom like sparks from a wire. "I thought I'd try to make a good impression this time." He gestures to himself. "You are rather special, after all, Detective Sanders."

My jaw tightens as I keep my emotions packed down. It takes all my effort to do so with Murphy so close, but I steady myself and keep my feet planted to the ground.  _No need to let him provoke me. I've got Adam at my side. Everything will be fine._

"Nothing to say?" Murphy says with a cocked brow. He smiles. "I do so prefer the quiet ones."

His eyes suddenly sharpen, focusing on adam. "Oh, it was you I sensed all that time ago. I thought it was just a random vampire. I should have guessed it was one of the Agency's pets."

Adam's expression doesn't shift--not even a flinch--as Murphy addresses him. It helps soothe my nerves and keeps me from growling at the remark.

"Taking you down as well as stealing the detective out from under you will be such a sweet victory," Murphy continues.

Adam and I both tense as a group of milky-eyed, swollen-limbed thralls sway out from behind my car. They flank Murphy, their groans vibrating through the air.

"Bring me the detective," He commands them. "Kill the other one."

The thralls lurch forward, and my stomach drops.

Adam doesn't hesitate. He slams his hand against the side of my car so he can pivot around, driving his foot into the chest of an oncoming thrall.

The thrall smashes into the vehicle and crumples to the ground. Adam takes a deep breath.

I frown, never having seem him looking so...exhausted. That DMB must be having more effect than he's willing to admit.

Murphy clicks his tongue and stares down at his defeated lackey. "Disappointing." He then shuffles over to sit on the bonnet of my car, the shadow of a dark smile playing over his lips. "Well, go get them."

The remaining thralls move again at his command.

Taking a step back, I survey the scene for a moment. Adam fights with undeniable skill; the thralls are knocked away from him every time they try to approach.

As they're shoved back, they avoid coming beneath the lamplight. One almost stumbles to get away from it, raising their arm above their head to protect their eyes from the orange beam that beats down on them.

Now I know what to do.

"Adam!" I yell, catching the vampire's attention for a moment as he fends off another attack.

He glares over at me.

I gesture to his cargo trousers. "I need your phone!"

His face tightens into angered annoyance. "Pardon?"

"Your phone!"

With a grunt, he smacks back a thrall, yanks out his phone, and launches it towards me before getting back into the fight. I catch it, the phone almost slipping out of my damp grasp.

I clutch it more tightly. Now all I have to do is check whether there's a damn camera function on it. For all their high tech gear, it would be typical that the Agency would leave out something so simple.

I let out a sigh of relief to find the camera app on the screen.

A few seconds of set-up later, I look back towards Adam. "Cover your eyes!"

Adam glances at me, hesitant for a long moment, then eventually leaps away with his back turned to the thralls.

I chuck the phone forwards.

A spray of bright flashes explodes between the thralls, the camera taking constant pictures in the gloom for a few seconds. It's enough to have the thralls moaning and stumbling away, hands clawing at their faces, eyes scalded my the brightness.

A triumphant, relieved smile settles on my lips.

But it's not long before they're advancing on Adam again, arms flailing wildly and blindly in the sheer hope of just hitting something.

Minutes pass. Long minutes.

What the thralls lack in combat skill, they make up for with brute force and stamina. Every time one goes down, they get right back up--even with broken limbs or blood pooling from their faces.

Murphy is standing now, pacing like a shark around prey, waiting for the best moment to strike. I can feel the focus from him, as sharp on me as the rain that belts down from the darkening sky.

It's getting harder to breathe through the exhaustion; each breath laces my lungs with cold, painful stinging. Adam is also staring to slow down, his motions labored and heavy.

We back up from the thralls as they clamber back onto their feet for another relentless assault.

Adam pants out of breath, staring over the scene and then to me. "I'm not sure how this is going to end. I will try to get you past this lot so you can get free. Understood?"

I give a nod, too exhausted to think up a better plan in that moment.

"Alright," He says, wincing a little. His hands fall heavily at his sides. "We need to go now!" We spring into action, running from the scene. We only manage two steps before Murphy appears from the gloom with a wide smirk.

"Going somewhere?"

Adam glances at me for the slightest second before lunging forwards.

And Murphy actually looks terrified for one moment. But the fear is quickly replaced by triumph when Murphy plunges a concealed dagger into Adam's side.

Adam chokes out a breath.

"It's laced with DMB," Murphy whispers viciously into Adams's ear. Adam's face contorts with pain. "Lucky I had one to hand."

I stare on, wide-eyed, as Murphy violently yanks the blade out. Adam gasps loudly and hunches forwards. Blood pours from the wound and Adam covers it with his hands, his pale fingers stained crimson.

"Oh my god..." My voice sounds as useless as I am in that moment, my mind struggling to keep up with what I'm seeing.

Adam's gaze flashes to me. He stumbles forward, then drops to his knees.

Finally forcing myself to move, I make to crouch down beside him. But hands grasp at my arms, dragging me back and almost off the ground.

I struggle and fight against the thralls, managing to get a hand free. I stretch it out towards Adam, as though it will save us both if he can just reach it.

His lips move in silent words. My chest constricts as he topples forward, unmoving, onto the dark drowned concrete.

My breath stops.

"Tragic," Murphy says. He lets the stained knife roll off his palm, the metal falling to the ground with a deep splash as it hits a puddle. "Let's go."

The thralls haul me along behind him...and I stare after Adam until his bloodied form is lost to the rain.

"Adam!"

I replay the silent words I read from Adam's lips over and over again until there's a sharp crack of pain against my head and the world around me starts to go black.  _Please don't take him from me._


	18. Chapter 17

**_In an Unknown Location, at the Edge of Town_ **

"Ugh..." I'm pretty sure it's me making a painful groan as my body reboots. With a pounding inside my head that makes even my teeth ache, I slowly begin to blink open my eyes.

Dim light soothes my vision as it blurs and focuses. All I can do is roll my gaze around. My body is heavy and sluggish. I can feel I'm on something solid and flat, but that's about all.

Harsh white light pools from the far side of the unfamiliar room. It casts reflections on a selection of clean, white hospital machines. But as my vision clears, I can see they don't match the rest of the room.

The dank walls are peeling, blooms of green mold making a patchwork across the grey. Cobwebs, dust, and ivy hang like some kind of eerie bunting from the ceiling. The cracked, dirt-caked windows are partly sealed off by planks of rotting wood, though I manage to just see that it's dark outside.

Rain hammers on the metal corrugated roof above, but it's hard to distinguish that from the drumming of my headache.

Looks like an abandoned warehouse.  _At least I was kind of on the right track with the Farris Warehouse..._ The thought gives less comfort than I'd hoped. And I'm beginning to wish all my sense weren't suddenly returning--the musty, damn smell invades my nose and makes me attempt a weak cough.

I groan lightly again, trying to roll off whatever I'm on. But my arms don't budge, and neither do my ankles. Glancing down in a sudden panic, I find leather straps binding my limbs in place. The thick metal buckles pinch into my skin, the cold iron biting like ice.

"You're finally awake."

The echoing voice brings a flood of memories storming into my mind: the smoke, the fight, the thralls, Murphy...Adam.

_No, don't struggle. There's no point, Murphy already has you where he wants you. Just remain calm, save your strength, try to get him talking for a bit, give the team time to find you._

Forcing my initial reaction away, I take a steady breath. My limbs relax in the bonds, the straps no longer pinching at me. Yet, I'm still well aware of their unyielding grasp around my hands and feet.

"Glad to see you're not suffering any side effects from the drug I gave you," Murphy says, his shoes squeaking against the floor as he walks around the medical table I realize I'm on. He strides into my limited view. "It was a necessary thing, I'm afraid."

 _Okay. So the drug is going to most likely make me slow for a little bit._ I watch him carefully, my gaze following every motion he makes. He seems calm, stepping even closer. As he approaches, I can see perspiration glistening on his clammy skin.

He notices where my gaze has fallen and gives a heavy shrug. "Excuse my appearance. Your blood drained from me a while ago, and it's left me a little shattered." He raises a hand to tug back his strands of lank, sweat-soaked hair, his fingers shaking.

"My blood?" I ask, catching the words after a moment.

"Oh yes," He says, grinning and leaning over me. "Don't you understand? Your blood is...quite incredible."

I frown. "Actually, I don't understand."

He grins. "Oh, well then, Detective, we can experience this together!" Genuine excitement sounds in his voice. "I'm always happy to explain my theories to those who are willing."  _Not like I've got a fucking choice in the matter, asshat._

It's difficult to keep my expression neutral with the sudden sick enthusiasm Murphy exudes.

He makes to step away and I let my attention follow, my head rolling to one side. As I do, I spy a polished metal tray by the side of the bed. A selection of vicious-looking medical tools--I can only imagine they're designed to inflict pain rather than heal--lay like a row of shark's teeth on its surface.

"Oh, don't worry about those," Murphy says with a smile. "They're just for show...unless you misbehave, of course. Then they'll be most useful." He winks, sending a shudder rattling down my back that adds to the aches already there.

"How did you get my blood?" I ask. Distracting him might help for a while, although I'm going to have to come up with a better plan at some point. Hopefully, my head and body will stop pounding long enough to let me think clearly.

Murphy shrugs, fiddling with a couple of the machines at the end of the room. "Oh, remember when you cut yourself in my lab?" He looks over his shoulder at me. "Even after testing, it was more than enough to put my plan into motion today."

"What?"

He half-turns to me and cocks his head. "What did the Agency actually find out about your blood?"

Then the question is waved away by a flick of his hand. "It doesn't matter. What I know will far exceed what they think they know."

I stare at him, subtly testing the bonds. They still don't move. I stifle a sigh.

"Your blood is power, Detective!" Murphy exclaims, hands flinging into the air in excitement. "Although that may make it impossible for me to use my pheromones, the power your blood provides was well worth the risk."

"What?" I feel like I'm on repeat.

Murphy settles down on a chair, the rotted wood groaning. "Your blood is like a battery for us. A vampire who consumes your blood will have an extreme boost in their abilities. It will eventually be burnt through, though--like burning through an energy drink. So the effect is, unfortunately, only temporary. But the more blood is consumed, the longer the effect stays."

The information pinches at my already bruised mind.  _...Oh fucking shit._ "That's how you managed to create thralls during the day..."

He nods. "Yes. Well done, Detective."

"So, you're hoping to drain me?"

"No, no. don't be silly," He says. "I wouldn't want to waste it. Keeping you alive is most important." A sharp smile cuts across his features. "I want years of use out of you, Detective."

I swallow down the sudden churning in my stomach.

"But I didn't bring you here just to inform you of your unique situation." He stands from the chair, leaning over to start wheeling one of the machines closer. A selection of clear tubes protrudes from the sides of it, the plastic, tentacle-like pieces dragging over the mud-caked floor. "I've discovered something that can enhance your purpose even further."

My eyes remain fixed on the machines, a dread settling like a heavy fog over my body.

"You see, when people with your blood type--" He pauses, turning to face me with a chuckle. "Well, I suppose that's just you now." He titters a laugh again, returning to poking buttons on the machine. "When people with your mutation have vampire blood added into their system, the effects become...mind-blowing."

He rolls a tall, standing metal pole beside the bed. It squeaks to a stop beneath a stream of harsh light. A bag of deep red blood swings from a hook at the top of it.

Understanding hits me like a train.  _That's what he was testing in the lab._

Breath shudders from my lips, but I keep my composure and glance over the equipment. "After you put the blood in me, what happens?"

"I'm so glad you're as interested as I am! Well, first thing we do is see if you survive."

He leans back with a chuckle. "After that...I guess we find out if it works. That first bite will be intensely satisfying--not long to my body, but to my curiosity, I'm sure."

I don't hold back a grimace this time.

"But it won't change you at all, if that's what you're worried about. You'll still be boringly human."  _Well, that is a little comforting._ He returns his focus to the machines, stooping down to retrieve one of the plastic tubes. A needle juts out from the head of it.

"The other times I've tried this have been failures, as you well know," He says. "But I finally understand what I was doing wrong."

He steps closer, needle grasped in his white-knuckled hand. "I was trying to replace all of their blood with vampire blood, which had the unfortunate side effect of killing them."

He purses his lips. "But now I know I have to mix the two: human and vampire. Not replace it all completely." With a flashing gaze, he looks over me. "And with your mutation, it should take this time."

"There..." I begin, my words halting for a moment as I stare at the bag of blood. "There are people looking for me."

"Ah yes," Murphy says. "Your vampire bodyguards. I wouldn't count too much on them finding you. Now then, shall we get on with this?"

"They'll find me," I reply in a pathetic response. It's not much, but I needed to hear those words to try and comfort myself. I have to believe that Unit Bravo will find me.

Murphy doesn't listen. "As you've been a better subject than expected, I'll do my best to keep the pain to a minimum."

I wince at the tiny pinch as Murphy slides the needle into the skin of my arm with surprising care, taping it in place. He then walks around, repeating the action in the other arm.

The tubes jut out of my skin. It's almost like watching a nightmare, rather than reality.

"I'm sorry that this pain can't be avoided." He smiles sadly and then flicks on the machine. It whirs to life, sputtering for a moment.

It's a couple of seconds before the tubes being to stain with a dark red. I watch in horrified panic as the blood spills from the bag and creeps closer to my arm through the plastic. As much as I try to struggle away, it crawls around the twists of tubing, ever closer towards me.

It finally hits the needle.

Pain erupts like acid searing through my veins.

White-hot agony explodes around my body.

My back arches.

I scream.  _ADAM!!_


	19. Chapter 18

Darkness. It's all that consumes me for a long while. I'm not sure how long, but it certainly feels like an eternity.

Then light flutters at the edge of my senses. There's a noise too. Something familiar. A sound that makes my skin crawl...

"Detective?" The voice asks. "Come on. You have to be alive."

My eyes peel open slowly, and I instantly squeeze them shut again as the dim light pierces into my head. "Ow..."

"Oh!" The voice exclaims. "You're alive! You're really alive! Ha ha!" A hand shoves back the matter hair from my sweat-lined face, the gesture almost as heavy as a slap.

The excitement in the voice sends a ripple of pounding acheyness through my head and body. There's a definite taste of metallic blood lining my tongue.

Finally, I force my eyes open again and get a sickening sense of déjà vu. The same dilapidated room greets me: peeling walls, wood-blocked windows, moldy furniture...and Murphy.

The machines and needs are gone, at least.

"It worked!" Murphy cries, mouth contorted into the biggest grin I've ever seen. "Can you believe it?"

With no energy to respond, I'm thankful when a sudden clatter echoes from outside the room and interrupts his very loud celebration.

Murphy spins on his heel, glaring at the door, before returning his gaze to me. "Excuse me, Detective, I shall be but a minute. I want to make sure we are enjoying this moment alone. Don't, uh, go anywhere."

And with a chuckle at his own joke, he heads out of the room, snapping the door shut behind him.

Silence settles over the room--the lack of sound soothing to my pain-racked body.

_I'm alone._

My gaze flops to the door, not hearing footsteps.

I probably won't get another chance like this if I want to escape. But even the idea makes me retch at though of moving; my energy is currently running near empty.

_There's got to be something to loosen these fucking bonds._

I flash my limited gaze around as much as possible. It's difficult to see as my vision blurs, pain racking at my body. But I narrow my eyes, focusing my mind even harder on finding something to help with these bonds.

After just a moment, my eyes land on a pen by my hand on the metal hospital bed. Murphy must have left it before he went.

I smile..and then wince at my face aches with the expression.

It's difficult to curl my fingers towards it with my wrist strapped down tightly, but after a few attempt--and one heart-stopping moment when I almost push the pen off the bed--I grasp the pen tightly in my fist.

After taking a moment to draw in a steadying breath, I set to work, wiggling the pen beneath the strip and between the buckle.

My fingers twist into painfully awkward positions, but I force myself on.

And then it finally gives!

The strap flips out of the metal buckle, and I yank my hand free, almost letting out a choked sob of relief.

Not wasting any time, I set about undoing the other straps.

When all my limbs are finally free, I slowly swing around, gritting my teeth as pain streaks through my body at the movement. Then I clamber from the table.

As soon as my feet hit the floor, my knees buckle. I barely contain my yelp of pain as my kneecaps crash into the cracked tile ground.

Exhaustion threatens to keep me pinned. But I push through, my breaths short and labored. I force myself onto my feet. Using whatever furniture in nearby for support, I stumble towards the door.

There's no sound from outside as I crack the door open, and I shuffle out. My legs almost give out once again, so I fall against the wall to keep myself upright.

With pain continuing to feel like it's tearing at every muscle, I begin heading down the corridor at my hobbled pace. My hands rest on the soggy wall to guide me through the murky darkness.

The corridors are almost impossible to navigate. A stray shaft of moonlight streaking through a hole in the metal ceiling in the thing to guide my way.

Cracked, fallen beams feel like hundred-foot hurdles as I try to stagger over them, only to end up slipping in the rust-colored puddles on the other side. Rain beats against the roof, and dribbles of it trickle down the walls. My hands are chill and slick as I run them along the wet surface to guide my way.

I think my bare feet might be cut from the sharp debris lining the floor like a vicious rug. But I'm in so much agony, I can't really tell.

My breath fogs the air in front of me, making it even harder to see. I have to keep blinking my eyes rapidly just to stop them from closing altogether.

My fingers are numb. My legs are throbbing. My mouth is dry and cracked. My skin is scratched and bruised. And my hope is crushed with every dragged step.

After a few more paces, my body slides down the wall. I crumple onto the ground in a heap. The pain and fatigue are too much, almost paralyzing me as I try to catch my breath.

I'm exhausted. Alone. Injured. And I still don't know what Murphy has really done to me.

I could just sit here and let the cold darkness take me...

_It would be so much easier..._

I manage to shake off the thought, but that's about all I can do.  _I...I just can't do this..._ I crumble even further down, squeezing my stinging eyes shut and leaning my head against the damp wall.

As pessimistic as it may seem, pushing myself any further is just impossible.

I manage a shattered breath, and my arms fall to my sides.

The momentary break helps me recover some energy. I steady my breathing, starting to feel some life come back to my body.

A sudden echo of a voice makes my eyes flick open.

My heart pounds to a stop.

_Please, not Murphy..._

But the voice that says my name makes my entire body relax.

"...Virgil?" Adam asks, so softly I barely hear it.  _There's no way. It's can't be._ I remember there being so much blood after he was stabbed with the dagger, remembering that it was laced with DMB, which just increased the amount that was already in his body.

For a moment, I don't actually believe it. I wonder if I've reached the point where I'm hallucinating.

Yet I dare a look anyway. My breath catches to find Adam standing directly in front of me.  _...You're alive!_

He stares at me for a long while. Silent. Unmoving. And then something unexpected softens the surprise on his features. Something I hadn't expected to see.

Relief.

_He's relieved I'm alive..._

He takes a sudden half-step towards me, hand reaching out. But he snaps it back before it touches me.

I just about manage to push myself to stand on my aching feet.

"You're tougher than I gave you credit for," He says, the hint of a smile on his lips.

"Yeah, I am," I reply. Then I take a stumbling step forward as pain laces through my legs.

Adam instantly steps towards me, hands pressed against my shoulders to keep me standing.

I look to him. "Thanks."

He swallows hard. "You're welcome." His hands move to grip my shoulders tighter, and the pain and exhaustion seem to flee at his caring touch.

"Detective!" Felix calls as the rest of Unit Bravo appear.

Adam sets me back firmly on my feet and takes a wide step away.

Relief floods me as I see them all here. I take a strained breath, a bubble of hope once again forming inside of me.

"Where's Murphy?" Adam asks, clearing his throat.

I give a weary shrug. "I don't know. I managed to escape, but I haven't seen him."

"You escaped?" Mason asks. Even in my bedraggled state, I note the impressed smirk on his face.  _Oh, you asshole._ If I wasn't in so much pain, I might have returned his smirk.

"This way," Adam says sharply. We all begin to move at a slow pace into a large, open space that looks like it was a factory floor. "We need to get you out of here before we deal with Murphy."

"Deal with me?" The sudden voice booms around the open room, and we all halt mid-step. "Just what exactly are you planning on doing with me?" Murphy slides out from behind a cracked metal column on the far side.

The gap that had formed between Adam and me is suddenly closed as he flashes to stand protectively beside me. I'm not gonna lie, I felt a lot more at ease with him so close.

"This is all very touching, I'm sure," Murphy says with pursed lips. "But that's my vessel you're pawing. Even if my little lab rat seems to have managed to escape me."

He gives a scoff. "Actually, you're not a lab rat anymore, are you, Detective? No, you're truly a success!"

Each one of Unit Bravo's gazes turns on me, a range of emotions flickering onto their faces: confusion, curiosity, worry, anger...

"But seeing as you are such a success, I can't exactly have you getting away from me now, can I?" Murphy takes a step forward. "So I'll have to deal with your little herd here. I don't want them getting in the way of our future."

"You really want to take us on?" Felix scoffs. "There's five of us!" He glances at me, my body hunched, gasping at each breath. My hand is clasped to my bruised side. "Well, four and a half, maybe."  _That sounds about right._

"I'll take my chances," Murphy replies, his expression as serious as his tone.

Beams creak under the strain of the silent tension between us all; the tension drowns the entire damp, dark factory.

Murphy stares at the team. The team glare at Murphy.

The tension finally cracks.

Mason speeds forward, once again just a blur of motion before my eyes. There's heavy thump. I watch as Murphy is catapulted across the room, slamming into one of the metal beams. It buckles and bends under the impact.

Mason smirks...until Murphy staggers back onto his feet and brushes himself off. "I guess we're beginning," Murphy says.

He hurls himself towards Mason, who barely has time to realize what's happening before Murphy is on him. The rest of Unit Bravo speed forward to join in.

I didn't think I'd be much use in this fight considering my condition, but the speed and force being used makes me stumble back in shock. It's one thing knowing vampires are more advanced than humans; it's another thing witnessing it right before my eyes.

One minute they blur into action, groans and thuds the only thing I can keep up with, and a moment later they pause to catch a breath--and then begin all over again!

I press my body to straighten a little. My face twists from the aches storming through me at the motion.

In my condition, I'm not sure what I can do, but I'm not sure just standing here is the best idea either...

Knowing I'm no good to anyone or anything in my current condition, I figure the most helpful thing I can do is keep out of the way.

Speckled streams of moonlight are my only source of light as I begin trying to make my way over to a rusty piece of factory machinery. I lean against it, trying to ease some of the cramping in my legs.

Massaging my calves and rolling out my shoulders doesn't help much. But after a few minutes, the fight falls silent.

I return my focus to the group.

Murphy is stumbling back from Unit Bravo, heavy breaths puffing out of them all and backs arched like hackles on a pack of wolves.

Murphy slowly holds up his hands, and a smile cracks through his bruised face. "Alright, alright. I get it. I can't beat you--especially not all of you--like this."

I stand from my place and shuffle a little closer to hear. The echoes of his words are almost lost beneath the continual pounding of the rain on the corrugated metal roof.

"Then surrender now and come to the Agency peacefully," Nate calls, his words strained with obvious fatigue.

Murphy's smile grows. "Oh, but you don't understand. I said I can't beat you like this." The smile falls. "It's lucky I have a backup plan."

With a gasp, I stumble back. _I don't wanna be your backup plan!_  Murphy appears right in front of me, eyes glaring into mine.

"Time to test your worth, Detective," He sneers, snapping a hand out towards me.  _NO! Fuck you!_

Suddenly, I'm glad I've taken a few chances to conserve my energy! With more agility than I expected, I twist out of the way of Murphy's oncoming grab.

His fingers claw down my forearm, reopening the wound from the needle, but I ignore it and continue on.

In a hobbling run, I sprint closer towards Unit Bravo, who are already rushing to reach me. Once again standing side-by-side with the team, my confidence picks up a few notches. I manage to stand a little taller--even if it means wincing through the pain that causes.

Murphy turns to face us, a brow arched. "Well, that was unexpected. But I suppose I got some of what I wanted." He brings up his hand, the palm stained red.

My eyes widen and stare down at my arm. Finger marks streak down it, and blood pools from the gaping, reopened injury. "Oh no..."

With a smirk, Murphy slowly slides his tongue over his hand, lapping up my blood from his skin.

Unit Bravo close in around each other. We all watch as Murphy suddenly gives a loud retch...and then begins to laugh.

His laughter echoes like a haunting melody around the shadowed room, and even Unit Bravo seems to shift under the eerie weight of it. Murphy's body shakes. His grin is so wide it almost splits his face.

"Shall we try this again?" He asks.

Mason frowns and doesn't even wait a moment before rushing towards him.

Murphy simply holds out a palm, and Mason crashes into it like a concrete barrier. He flies back, crashing into the wall twenty feet away with an impact so hard, a crater forms where he's smashed into it. Pieces of concrete crumble around him as he slumps to the ground.

I stare wide-eyed as Mason manages to crawl onto all fours, a line of blood pooling over his bottom lip. He takes a strangled, gasping breath.

"Holy crap..." Felix mutters.

But Mason clambers up again and heads for Murphy. This time he's joined by the rest of the team.

They're all pummeled back with ease, landing in a spread of heaped, moaning bodies.

Murphy smiles again, raising his hands in front of his face and flexing his fingers. "Oh, this is even better than I could have imagined!"

The team force themselves up and try again.

And again.

Then again.

Each time, they suffer a set of new injuries. Soon they look as bloodied as I do.

Murphy's laugh continues to add a tormenting soundtrack to the painfully one-sided fight. My mind is beginning to spin at the amount of blood oozing from my wound.

When the vampires go down the next time, Felix rolls onto his side and looks to Adam with a pained wince.

"We've got to do something," He says through a crackled voice. "Just running and hoping to land a hit isn't exactly working!"

I stare at the defeated team and realize he's right. Murphy is stronger and faster...but there has to be a way to beat him.

My mind pinches at the thought, blood still seeping down my arm at a worrying rate. My head feels like it's drifting to the ceiling. But I do my best to focus, clamping my fingers tighter around my arm.

"What exactly were you planning on doing to defeat him?" I ask.

Adam rolls his exhausted attention in my direction and hesitates. Then he tugs something from the lower pocket of his combat trousers. A small syringe sits on his palm.

I have no idea what's inside, but it's obviously our only option.

"Alright," I reply with a nod.  _How are we going to slow down Murphy enough to get that into him?_

I hiss in pain as my wound pinches, and I glance down at the still constant stream of blood.

My eyes widen, and I snap my gaze to Murphy.  _Of course! Blood!_

Turning to Adam, I keep my voice low but my words hurried. "My blood is what is making Murphy strong...but if he were to lose as much as I am, that would flood it out of his system and he would weaken!"

The idea sends a boost of motivation coursing through me, but not apparently so much for Adam.

"Are you mad?" He asks in a harsh whisper. "What do you think we've been trying to do?!"

"I have an idea." I frown. "But you're going to have to trust me."

It's a few long seconds before Adam's expression softens, and he nods.

"Keep him busy," I order, to which he nods again.

And not a moment too soon, as Murphy once more barrels towards the team. Thankfully, he's ignoring me, as he has done throughout most of the fight.

Flinging myself out of the way, I roll to one side and instantly begin foraging through the rusted equipment strewn about the ground.  _Come on, old criminal history, don't fail me now!_

My hands clasp a long broken piece of machinery, the end of it savagely twisted and jagged.  _Oh! A thing to stab this asshole hurting my friends with!_

It's perfect.

Knowing Murphy's attention hasn't been on me at all during this encounter, it's the perfect cover for me to actually get close.

Crouching in one of the deeper shadows, I stare across the factory and meet Adam's eye.

And with a nod of understanding, Adam yells and throws his foot out at Murphy's chest. Murphy--obviously not expecting such a final attack from a staggering opponent--tumble backwards.

He fall.

I move.

_Got you, you fucking son of a bitch._

Understanding widens Murphy's eyes as I lunge forwards--but it's too late.

I drive the metal stake deep into Murphy's leg. His roar of pain is so loud it make the building shudder, and I fall back at the strength of it.

Murphy forces himself up, yanking the protruding metal from his leg. It doesn't begin to heal. Instead, it seeps blood, the deep red of it pooling around his foot.

Not missing a beat, Adam sprints forward and drives the syringe into Murphy's neck.

"No!" Murphy chokes, clawing at Adam's hands. But Adam doesn't budge.

Weakness is beginning to temper Murphy's actions with every ounce of blood lost. Adam plunges the last drop of whatever is in the needle beneath Murphy's skin.

Adam stumbles back, choking a cough and dropping his hands to his sides.

I make to join him, eyes wide. I watch Murphy begin to convulse, crashing to his knees, his eyes rolling back into his head.

My stomach churns at the sight of it.

Until finally, Murphy lets out a long breath...and falls silent.

_...Please, let this be done with..._

All I can hear are the team's labored breaths in the dark. It seems to take the longest minute of our lives for everyone to realize it's really over.

"We...we did it..." The words exhale from me, my voice shuddering and broken. I stare over at Adam next to me, his eyes as wide as mine in relief-filled shock. "We really did it!"

For one brief moment, I see only the light green of his eyes and the flicker of a smile on his pale pink lips.

Shadow encroaches on my mind. I suddenly realize the warm flow from my wound is stemming, and not because I'm healing. I smile at Adam. Then I collapse to the ground.


	20. Chapter 19

I don't know what happened just moments ago, but I feel like I've been plunged into the sea. There's a grip on the sides of my head by firm, but gentle hands, a voice stern above me. Then there's a frantic moving of my wet hair for my face.

"You have to wake up..." I hear the voice of Adam more clearly now, picking up faintly the fear in his voice and I want to see him. I want to know he's okay. My eyes blink open.

My eyes settle onto him and I can see the intense relief engulf him. He tenses up, forcing himself not to act.

I feel as one of his hands settles on my chest gently, his icy green eyes gazing into mine. "Don't you dare black out again."

_Come on, idiot. Try to ease things up, get him to smile._ God it would be so nice to see him smile.

I try to crack a smile before saying, "You still trying to order me around?"

Adam frowns. "This is an order you have to follow."

"You sound...serious..." I try to joke, but it's interrupted by a few crackled coughs.

"Detective, keep your eyes open," Adam says, and I hear the desperation bleeding into his voice.

He leans closer, running a hand down the side of my face. "Virgil...stay with me."

I smile as he says my name again, so happy to hear it falling from his lips once more. Blackness takes me over again as my eyes blink shut; I feel as Adam grips me tighter and the panic in his voice as he screams, "No! Come back!"

Then there's nothing.


	21. Chapter 20

**_Some Days Later, at the Agency Facility Just Outside of Wayhaven_ **

"Ugh..." I push my spoon around the dish on unrecognizable brown mush--I think it's possibly casserole. The meal is growing unappealing after five days of the same thing. It seems to be all they serve in the Agency's facility.

Being stuck in their medical lab for nearly a week is driving me a little insane. I'm starting to be here so often, I wonder if I ought to suggest that they give me my own room.

_At least I'm finally allowed visitors today..._ The thought is times just right, as a gentle knock sounds at the door.

"Come in," I call, a little quieter than I meant to. My throat is still sore.

The door creaks open, Rebecca peering around it with a soft smile. "Good morning. Can I come in?"

I grin wide and beckon her in. "It's really good to see you. Please, come in."

She gives a smile to match my own and steps inside, shutting the door gently behind her. "I came the moment I learned you were allowed visitors."

She moves closer, coming to sit on the chair at the side of my bed.

It's a while before she speaks again, glancing towards me with a heaviness behind her brown eyes.

"The doctors say you're healing well."

"They've examined me enough, so they should know," I say. "Is there something wrong?" Her unease has me shifting beneath the flimsy bed sheet.

She glances away for a moment and sighs. "I need to talk to you about what happened at the warehouse."

Memories make my body tense, and I try to ignore the pain that sends through me.

"What you did with Unit Bravo was incredibly brave, especially considering what you must have gone through..." Her voice chokes as she says that, and she shakes her head and straightens her back. "We have Murphy in our holding cells, and we're doing what we can to extract as much information as possible from him."

"And that's not going very well, I guess?" It's an easy assumption by the taut expression on her face.

"Not incredibly so, no." She fidgets on the seat. "But that whole situation, and what you did and how you've come through it, well, it's impressed the Agency."

My brows arch in surprise.

She leans forward, placing a hand beside me on the mattress. "They want you to become the human liaison for the town of Wayhaven."

My brows go even higher.

"Unit Bravo has been assigned to Wayhaven and will be your main point of contact. The Agency are also pouring more resources into this facility to aid you."

"Why?"

She shrugs, slim shoulders wearily lifting the grey jacket she wears. "They are just being prepared. When something of this significance happens...it can ripple through the supernatural community and create issues."

_Well, that doesn't sound good..._ I try to bury the sudden worried thought.

"With you as liaison, it means the Agency can help Wayhaven should anything occur, without needing to move around the authorities. Everything will still need to be kept a tight secret, but it will offer more freedom to help those in our town.

"You'll always be involved or notified of anything we do, of course. And you'd have access to all of our knowledge and aid should anything happen." She meets my eye. "What do you think?"

Thinking over it logically, it makes complete sense to take the position. Not only for myself, but for the town. From what I've seen, having access to the Agency will open up a whole new area of resources for Wayhaven.

I give a nod. "More resources means I can protect my town better, so I'll take it."

Rebecca's smile is not quite as pleased as I'd expected. "I'll let them know."

"You don't want me to take the position?" I ask.

She stiffens. "I'm sure you'll do fine. But I am your mother, so I do worry." Her hand moves closer. "When I saw you outside of that warehouse--"

She swallows, the emotion strangling her voice. "I thought...I thought you were..."

Her hands grasp the bed sheet. "I thought my life was over when I say you like that."

A small tear escapes her eyes and drops onto my hand as she casts her gaze down to hide her expression.  _...I bet Adam felt the same way._

My heart wrenches in my chest at the sight of her hunched in the chair, elegant fingers, wiping at her eyes. "Oh, Mum..." I reach a hand out to comfort her.

She takes my fingers in hers, eyes shining with tears. "I'm so sorry, Virgil. This is...all of it is my fault."

I shake my head. "No--"

Bang!

We both almost jump out of our skins as the door to the room slams open with force.

Felix shuffles inside, leaning against the door frame with a charming grin plastered on his face. "Miss us, Detective?" In one hand, he's grasping a bunch of balloons so vibrant in color they make my eyes hurt.

Rebecca stands from her seat instantly, moving away to a corner of the room and turning her back.

My focus is drawn back to Felix as he moves further inside, no accompanied by the rest of Unit Bravo.

I give a smile, glancing over the group, who seem completely unharmed by what happened--which I suppose I should have expected from a group of fast-healing vampires...

I shake my head, ridding it of the thought. "I'm glad to see you're all doing well."

Mason scoffs, springing up to sit on a side table. "Way better than you, anyway."  _Oh you are such an ass!_ Not that I really mind the comment.

I shake my head at the reply. "What brings you all here? I'm guessing it wasn't just to check in."

Felix launches himself onto the bed, bouncing a little as he settles to sit beside me. "Actually, that's exactly why we're here. If you hadn't heard, you're one of us now...part of the Agency..." He says it with a heavy sense of foreboding, and then he breaks into a chuckle.

"Yes, I heard." I look over at Rebecca, who is still in one corner. Nate is standing next to her, a hand on her shoulder and concern on his brow.

She gives a nod at whatever it is he's just said.

The shrill ring of Rebecca's phone breaks my examination. She grabs it out of her jacket pocket, shoves it to her ear, and leaves the room.

"So," Felix says, pulling my attention back, "how you feeling?"

"Like I was mauled by some psycho vampire. Oh wait," I say and then pause, putting a finger to my lips. "That's what actually happened."

Felix and Mason let out a chuckle.

"Wonder how long that attitude will last when the Agency puts you to work," Mason says with a slightly sinister smirk.

That doesn't exactly help inspire much confidence about the position I just agreed to.

"Ah, you'll be fine, Detective," Felix says, patting my knee and making me wince. He snaps his hand away and offers an apologetic smile. "Eventually."

"What you did for us, Detective..." Nate says suddenly, his voice trailing off as he frowns.

Adam steps forward. "We're grateful." He meets my eye, holding it in a stern stare. "All of us."

"No human has put themselves out there for us like you did," Felix says, grin matching the enthusiasm of his words. "So, you know, thanks for that."

"At least it meant we caught Murphy," I say, leaning back with a sigh. "Don't have to worry about him anymore."

Footsteps sound at the doorway as Elidor, my nurse--who also happens to be some sort of Fae, I discovered a few days ago--strides inside.

Fae wasn't my first thought when looking at his six-foot-seven height and arms the size of tree trunks. But the shimmer to his russet-colored skin and the streams of blue hair which cover his pointed ears certainly marked him as something other than human.

He also happens to look like some kind of Greek god. Apparently, you can't be supernatural unless you can make people swoon as you walk by.

"You lot," He says in a gruff voice, gesturing a finger at the team. "Out. The detective need his dose of meds."

I groan.

"Can we see him later?" Nate asks.

Elidor nod, dark lips pursing into a tight line. "Only if you get out now."

"Jeez, spoil our fun, why don't you?" Felix mutters, gaining a stern glare from Elidor. Felix raises his hands in defeat. "I'm going, I'm going..."

He slides off the bed and moves to join the rest of Unit Bravo as they shuffle out in a muddled queue. They close the door firmly behind them.

"Here you are." Elidor holds out a small white paper cup, a selection of colorful pills contained inside. "You won't need these for much longer."

I take the cup and grimace. "I hope not...ugh."

The tablets leave a bitter taste lingering on my tongue and down my throat, even after swilling the water Elidor hands me. We both glance up as a knock sounds at the door, and Adam steps inside.

"I'm sorry, Agent, but you're going to have to let him rest," Elidor says, blue brows drawing into a knot over deep-set eyes.

Adam stand stiff at the doorway. "The detective needs to be debriefed on a sudden situation."

The nurse sighs. "Understood, but don't take too long." He then gathers up the cup and water, throws me a warm smile, and heads out of the room. "I'll be back to check up soon."

The room falls into silence. Adam stands, unmoving, on the other side of the room, almost as though wary to draw closer.

I stare over the distance between us, arching a brow. "You can come in, you know. I don't bite..."

There's the merest flicker of an amused smile at the edge of his lips, but it's so faint I wonder if I imagined it.

"I don't exactly bring good news, I'm afraid," He says then. There's a seriousness to his tone that draws his shoulders back with tension as he moves closer.

"Oh?" I ask, thankful he's finally talking.

He actually walks all the way to my bedside, taking the chair next to it and sitting back. "it's been discovered that the properties of your blood--the empowering effects of it--don't just work on vampires, but on all supernaturals."

It's a few seconds before I realize just what he's saying.

My lips purse into a thin line, and I stare straight ahead of me as I process what he's just said. "That's not really the ending I was hoping for after all of this."

"Life--supernatural or otherwise--rarely goes as we hope," He replies, his voice surprisingly soft in sympathy. "It won't be long before the news spreads, and supernaturals will descend on the town in hopes of finding this new power."

"The new power being me?" I ask flatly.

He nods again.

I let out a groan.

"I'm assuming that's why you're all staying in Wayhaven?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Agent Sanders thinks it would be best if you have support with whatever should lay ahead," Adam replies.

His gaze then flicks to meet mind, a small frown tugging at his expression. "Does it bother you? That we'll be around you more?"

My skin tingles. I get the distinct impression he's not really asking about the whole team...

"it doesn't bother me at all," I reply with a slight smile. "Quite the opposite, in fact."

Adam lets out a short breath at my reply. "Good. I--the team will be pleased that you're pleased."

"I'm sure we're all pleased," I say, smile growing.

The moment draws on as our gazes hold for a moment longer.

But he quickly clears his throat, frowns, and rips his focus away. "I'm sure we'll work well together again, Detective."

"Yeah," I reply, my mind suddenly a little fogged.

He stands from the chair. "I should leave you to your rest."

"Is it difficult for you?" I blurt out, seeming to want to keep him around for longer.

He looks at me again. "What?"

"With my blood?" I shrug. "I heard it's...more appealing than normal humans."

His brow dips into a frown, eyes seeming lost in thought. "Harder than expected..."

The words come out in a half-whisper, and my breath speeds when he lifts a hand toward me. His fingers move close to my neck, my pulse racing beneath the skin as he traces the line of my vein, his touch achingly close to me but not against me.

He blinks and snaps out of the sudden daze, taking a stumbled step back. "But it's nothing I can't handle, I assure you."

I would reply, but my voice seems to have been stolen by his near touch. Instead, I attempt a nod.

Adam begins to stride across the room to the door. "Get well quick, Detective. There's going to be a lot to do. Rogue supernaturals don't sit around waiting for people to recover."

I roll my eyes. "Thanks for the concern."

He pauses, actually throws me a smirk, and then marches out of the room.

My focus stays on the spot for a while longer, his imposing presence seeming to linger, before I lean back and settle into the bed.

It was already a tough task to relax in the stiff confines of the hospital bed, but with all of the information I've just learned rattling about inside my aching head, I give up.

Rolling onto my side, I let out a sharp breath.

So I've now become some blood-battery for supernaturals--some of which might find their way here in order to drain me because of it.

_Wonderful..._

_I can handle anything that comes my way._ How could I not? Years of being a trouble maker before joining the police has certainly establish that I can do basically anything. I give a not at the thought, resolved to make the best out of whatever might be in my future.

Confidence and skill have seen me through many things. They'll get me through this as well.

At least Unit Bravo will be around. Having them as backup is sure to up my chances. They're practically a small army all by themselves!

That though, at least, helps to boost my waning optimism. I try to settle into bed as best I can. Stupid insomnia.

_I guess I'll just have to wait and see what comes my way._


End file.
